


Burning Down the Highway Skyline

by Faequeen40



Series: Crescendo [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bombs, FAKEOUT MAKEOUTS, Fake Engaged/Married, Gratuitous Assumptions of Heteronormativity, Home Alone Inspired Shenaningans, Interplanetary Political Intrigue, M/M, Mutual Pining, Mystical Alien Bonding, Pacific Rim References, Poison, Sexual Situations, Slow Burn, Star Wars References, Violence, Way More Explosions Than Is Frankly Necessary
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-02-04 23:37:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 122,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12782097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faequeen40/pseuds/Faequeen40
Summary: After a miscommunication for a diplomatic/infiltration venture, Keith and Lance have to pretend to be a devoted engaged couple.Not everything is as it seems in the idyllic world of Libanis. Will Keith and Lance be able to navigate the mess of their mutual pining to figure it out before the trap springs on them?





	1. On the Back of a Hurricane

**Author's Note:**

> Another Song Fic!  
> Sort of.  
> It was inspired by a song and then kind of grasped a life of its own. I try not to question the whims of my muse for she is fickle and generous with the ideas that she enjoys.  
> Like this one. XD  
> Somehow, I managed to churn out this first chapter in time for my Birthday Bomb so I hope you guys enjoy!

This…this wasn’t at all what he had been expecting.

When Shiro had briefed them, it had definitely seemed more like a bit of harmless acting than the current clusterfuck he was walking into.

They just had to get in, pretend to be a couple of dignitaries for a few days and distract the government long enough for Pidge to crack the codes protecting the very large, very dangerous Galra base taking up the majority of the southern hemisphere of the planet. The Libanian people were tentatively allied with the Galra and the Alliance desperately wanted this base gone. Taking it down would free up this entire sector.

And there was absolutely no way the Libanians were just going to let them waltz in and take the base down. Allura had tried.

This mission wasn’t something that Keith could really turn down, all things considered.

But as Keith looked out at the crowd that screamed congratulations at his back, an equally shell shocked Lance at his side, it was becoming increasingly clear that maybe everything wasn’t as clear cut as Shiro and Allura had believed.

“I… I did hear them right, didn’t I?” Lance said slowly, for once just as uncomfortable in a social situation as Keith was, “My translation doohickey isn’t on the fritz?”

“If yours is messing up, then so is mine.” Keith hissed, willing his face to stop flushing.

God this was such a mess.

“So they really think….”

“We’re here to get married? Yeah.”

“Shiro didn’t say anything about this little detail.” Lance hummed, his smile starting look slightly strained.

“I’m beginning to think we’ve been misinformed. About a lot of things.”

“You don’t think… they did it on purpose?”

“Shiro wouldn’t do that, even as a joke.” Keith said sternly, giving Lance a dark look.

“I didn’t mean Shiro, Mr. Grumpypants.” Lance huffed, easily keeping pace as the two of them followed after their almost weirdly excited host, “I know Pidge wouldn’t hesitate.”

Keith considered his point for a moment before heaving a sigh.

He wasn’t _wrong_ , per se.

“I’d like to think she wouldn’t do something like this on an important mission.” He offered at last, Lance nodding along at his words, a thoughtful look on his face.

His relationship with Lance recently had been _strange_ , for lack of a better term.

Gone were the days of petty fights just for the sake of fighting and upholding a very one-sided rivalry.

Imagine his surprise when he discovered that Lance was actually _enjoyable_ to be around when they weren’t constantly at each other’s throats. Their teamwork had grown by leaps and bounds.

There wasn’t a lot he was afraid of now, especially if he knew Lance had his back.

Keith actually _trusted_ Lance to have his back now. And when he thought about it, there really wasn’t a lot of people he’d give that distinction to.

It didn’t help that he may have developed a teeny tiny, absolutely miniscule ( _fucking enormous)_ crush on Lance as a result of their more positive interactions.

A crush that Shiro absolutely knew about, that bastard. If he had anything to do with this…

But it wasn’t his fault!

Lance was just so hard not to notice. So hard not to slowly fall in love with. Behind his obvious flirtations and showboating, there was a genuinely good person and teammate.

He was a genius sniper, an excellent strategist, and an even better friend.

Keith _loved_ him.

If there was anyone he’d have to pretend to be engaged to, he’d absolutely want it to be Lance.

Not that he’d ever tell him that.

Nope. No way.

Not in a million years.

They’d make it through this mess like they had every mess before. And Keith would treasure his memories of what it felt like to be Lance’s _person._

Since he was sure he’d never experience the reality of a situation like that.

What with Lance being straight as a fucking rail.

This was as close as he’d ever get and he’d take it.

A few days of pretending to be in engaged bliss before rushing out of here to blow up a Galra base.

He could totally do this.

With a delighted hum, their guide stopped and gestured to the suite around them, a wide smile disproportionately stretching their face.

“We’re so delighted to have you, sirs!” The guide sighed dreamily, “The delegation that arranged your ceremony was more than happy to share your story with us. Truly a love tale for the ages! Warriors who came to fall for one another over the course of a brutal and taxing war! How romantic!”

Keith frowned deeply as their guide twirled on the spot, her ribbons coming close to smacking him in the face.

That description sounded a little too close to home to sit well with him. Had Pidge really set something like this up?

“Is there any kind of itinerary that we could see?” Lance asked sweetly, only the stiffness to his shoulders betraying the tension he was carrying, “Our delegation didn’t give us one so Kitar and I are a bit lost.”

He punctuated his statement by wrapping a surprisingly corded arm around Keith's waist and tugging him close to the line of his body.

Keith had to fight the urge to stiffen at the unexpected action and the sudden heat of Lance’s body so close to his own. He forced himself to relax back into the embrace, guilt and happiness twisting his stomach into knots.

This might be harder than he had expected.

“But of course! I can’t blame the delegation for wanting to surprise the two of you!” The guide giggled, prodding at her wrist to produce a holographic screen very similar to those of the castle, “Rest assured, you two are going to be in excellent hands. Libanis is known for the gorgeous ceremonies it performs and it looks like the two of you are put down for the whole package! You must be very devoted to one another!”

Unease pooled in Keith’s gut and he let a bit of his weight rest against Lance, a frown pulling at his lips.

Something definitely wasn’t right here.

“What exactly does the whole package entail?” Keith asked, stalwartly ignoring the way his voice cracked.

…And the way Lance’s hand felt as it wrapped around his hip.

Good God, his hands were huge.

The guide hummed for a moment and pulled up another screen, perusing it with pursed lips. “The whole package entails a union of the body, mind, and soul! And it looks like the two of you are going for the express trail! So tomorrow you’ll start with the traditional ceremony of your people, then you’ll have Libanis' tribunal ceremony a few days after and then you’ll end your stay with us by performing the quintessence binding at the beach!” She recounted, “It is such an honor to be of service to such a devoted couple!”

Keith huffed out an overwhelmed breath, Lance’s hand tightening almost imperceptibly on his hip.

This…this definitely wasn’t what he wanted. Who the fuck gets married three times? And immediately after making it to what was essentially a vacation planet?

All he wanted was to bask in Lance’s attention for a few guilty days and then go kick ass. Not get married.

“I know that your journey has been most taxing so I’ll leave the two of you to your leisure. If you need me, please don’t hesitate to knock on the golden panel. I will come to assist as needed.”

Their guide disappeared after that, the small woman vanishing in a burst of ribbon and giggles.

Keith only waited long enough for the door to click closed before digging his com out of the bag at his side.

“Shiro, what the fuck?!” He growled, the com coming to life with a crackle of static.

If he had anything to do with this…

“You’re going to have to be a bit more specific, Keith. What happened?” Shiro said dryly, the tone of his voice so familiar that Keith could practically see the accompanying expression.

“They think we’re here to get married!” Keith snapped, hands tightening around the com to the point that the metal creaked.

Sure, Keith loved Lance. He loved him so much that he felt like he’d probably burst.

But they weren’t even together. This wasn’t a potential next step in their relationship.

This was jumping every gun they possibly could. All the guns. Just jumping right the fuck over the damn things.

This…this was just too much.

Today was the first time Lance had even somewhat acted like they were together and Keith thought he’d die from the guilt. He wouldn’t take any more advantage of Lance.

“That doesn’t sound right.” Pidge's voice called across the com, her hurried words making Keith freeze, violet eyes meeting Lance’s equally panicked gaze.

That was never a good sign.

“What are you talking about?” Lance asked, voice gravelly and tight.

“I mean that you guys were definitely registered as dignitaries, not an engaged couple. What the hell did you do?”

“What do you mean ‘what did we do'? We followed our instructions!” Lance snarled, frustration warping his features into something half scary and half ridiculously attractive.

Keith already knew he had an issue.

“Uh, guys. There was another couple that was supposed to arrive at the same time as the two of you.” Hunk interjected, apology in his voice, “I think they got the two groups confused.”

“And we went along with it.” Keith groaned, “There is no way we can clear up the misunderstanding without blowing our cover, is there?”

“Not really. Especially since it looks like the other party also played along with mix up. Whoever the real Kitar and Leandro are, they were perfectly happy to play at being diplomats.” Pidge huffed.

“So we…we have to get married tomorrow.” Lance said absently, his face curiously blank.

Guilt surged in Keith’s chest and he resisted the urge to further crush the com clutched in his fist.

This wasn’t what he wanted.

_Not at all._

“There has to be another way for this to work.” Keith said desperately, “We could run off, cause a scene? Would that be enough of a distraction?”

He refused to drag Lance into this. Even if the idea of being married to Lance kinda made his chest flutter, it had always been a far off fantasy.

This wasn’t right.

“It would be too risky. We went with this plan because it presented the lowest level of risk.” Shiro sighed, “But I won’t force the issue. If you two don’t want to go through with this, we can scrap the plan and try something else.”

Part of Keith absolutely wanted to jump onto Shiro’s suggestion….but they had picked this plan for a reason. They were trusting Lance and Keith to plant a few things through out the building. Without the transmitters, it would take Pidge much longer to crack the codes protecting the base.

The Alliance didn’t want to be patient.

“Are…are you sure?” Keith mumbled, “I thought all our other ideas were too dangerous or too long for the Alliance to wait.”

“They are but ceremonies like these are a big deal. I’m not putting the two of you in that kind of position without your consent.”

That was surprisingly comforting. And very generous.

But they’d already sunk so much time and energy into this plan. It didn’t feel right to just ditch it.

At the same time, he wasn’t going to force Lance to go through with it. He’d figure something out.

Keith let his hand relax and looked up, surprised to see Lance staring at him intently, cerulean eyes almost searching as they locked gazes.

“I’m not putting anyone else in danger.” Lance said resolutely, “We agreed on this plan. I won’t make any decisions for Keith but I’m going through with this.”

Keith could only gape at the Blue Paladin, unsure of how to react.

Lance wanted to go through with everything? He was willing to marry Keith no less than three times if their infiltration took too much time?

He was too much. Every time he thought he couldn’t fall for him any harder.

“If Lance is staying, then so am I.”

The com went quiet for a moment before Shiro sighed, the noise causing a burst of static to echo from the device.

“Be careful, guys.”

Static eventually fizzled away into silence, a thread of tension stretching between them as the quiet continued to linger.

“So now what?”

Lance was so fucking screwed.

The silence after their call was so thick that he was sure that Keith probably could have cut through it with his bayard.

If, you know, Keith.exe was working.

It was the first time he’d ever seen that particular look on Keith’s face.

He just looked _stunned._

Not that Lance could really blame him. This situation was nothing like what Shiro had explained to them after they’d volunteered.

This was always intended to be a mission primarily dependent on acting. It was right up Lance’s alley so of course he wanted to be on it. He was an actor at heart, all the way.

Pidge had found an allied planet nearby that had mostly humanoid inhabitants and after some convincing, mostly on Hunk and Allura’s part, the planet had agreed to send a fake delegation to Libanis.

They were supposed to be diplomats, for fuck’s sake.

That disguise was supposed to give them the most freedom to move around the palace and do the things that needed to be done. This? This wasn’t going to be like what Lance had expected at all.

The entire team was depending on them to plant those transmitters. They wouldn’t be able to get inside the base’s walls without them.

Despite the Empire’s overall lack of great technological safety, this base was actually airtight in an exceptionally worrisome way.

Pidge and Hunk had attributed it to the alliance between the Galra and Libanis. They were highly technologically advanced people, a lot of what Lance had already seen being on par or more evolved than the technology in the Castle itself.

It was part of the reason Lance had volunteered for this mission. He wasn’t necessarily technologically inclined, so he wanted to make himself useful where he could.

This. This would be useful.

That and he knew Keith was already planning on going.

Sending the most hotheaded Paladin of Voltron into a diplomatic situation definitely wouldn’t have been his first choice for a delicate mission like this but he understood why Keith would want to go.

He understood a lot of things about Keith these days.

He would have felt just as useless sitting around the Castle while the others trucked away on the code.

The things he understood tended to come up when he finally decided to stop living in denial about his feelings and face the facts.

The facts being that he’d never really hated Keith Kogane.

Quite the opposite, in fact.

He’d fallen for Keith long before he’d ever fought an intergalactic war at his side.

Lance had fallen for the lonely star pilot of the Garrison before he could even consider the notion.

He’d buried the feelings as deeply as he could after Keith’s expulsion and even further after they’d managed to rescue Shiro and get lost on the far side of the universe.

It had _hurt_ when Keith had claimed not to remember him.

Lance could never have forgotten Keith.

So he may or may not have… _overreacted._

A little.

Just a teensy bit.

He picked fights, inflaming a rivalry that he knew was ultimately one sided.

Lance wanted Keith’s attention, even if he constantly deluded himself as to why he craved it.

Things had been set to continue in the same vein until Hunk had finally pulled him aside after a mission and in an uncharacteristic fit of frustration with his best friend, Hunk had simply unloaded.

And even if he’d initially been hurt by Hunk’s words, Lance couldn’t fault his argument.

Their jobs place them in unimaginable danger and there was every chance that this mission would be the one that finally claimed their lives.

Did he really want Keith’s memories of him or his memories of Keith to be tinged with bitterness and regret?

It wasn’t hard to come to a decision after that.

Their rivalry had sloped off almost immediately and Lance really couldn’t fault Keith for his suspicion regarding Lance’s suddenly much friendlier behavior.

But he’d stuck it out and kept trying.

And trying.

                And trying.

Keith was very similar to the skittish cat that had lurked in his neighborhood when he was a child.

In a lot of ways.

There was hesitance in all of his interactions with the team, all except Shiro of course.

He was unused to a lot of things, friendly touch most of all.

Lance had lost count of how many times he’d startled Keith into nearly decking him.

For someone as physically affectionate as Lance, it was a bit daunting. But he resolved to have patience and coax Keith out as slowly as it took.

Things had finally started to pay off lately. He could honestly say they were friends now!

He had made Keith genuinely laugh. Like twice!

But Lance wanted _more._

So much more.

He wanted to be the one to hold his hand, the one to pull him close in the middle of the night and just shower him with all the love and affection that threatened to make Lance bust at the seams.

Of course, he was sure it wouldn’t ever happen.

Because Keith was with Allura.

And Lance would never actively try to sabotage someone’s relationship, even if he ever thought he could compete with _Allura._

If Keith was happy, the he was too. Plus, there was a whole universe out there.

It wouldn’t be easy but there had to be someone out here he could grow to love as much as he did Keith, right?

Right?

Of course, this mission just had to go sideways in all the worst ways.

A guilty part of him had been absolutely thrilled at the idea of pretending to be in a relationship with Keith.

A few days of finally getting to lavish Keith with affection like he so desperately craved?

Sign him the fuck up.

But this? This wasn’t right. Keith would still be with Allura after all this was over and Lance would be left wanting and heartbroken.

Just a taste of what it would be like to have Keith be his would never be enough.

Lance knew himself too well for that.

He’d done his best to hold back as they’d followed their guide through the palace, the weight of expectant stares falling heavy on his shoulders.

Their guide had seemed suspicious in the suite so he’d allowed himself the one tiny break, a casual arm around Keith’s waist.

A bare minimum that made his heart threaten to gallop right out of his chest.

He’d felt Keith’s flinch and the forced relaxation, a reaction that only inflamed Lance’s guilt.

He couldn’t have this.

And he didn’t want to jeopardize the relationship he had already with Keith! He valued the friendship they had fought for and if this farce continued, he’d probably make a fool out of himself and spill his feelings everywhere.

And then Allura would probably come whoop his ass for making moves on her man.

It was too much.

Then lo and behold, the guide springs the “express package’ on them.

Just who the hell were they impersonating? Were they having a shotgun wedding?

This wasn’t the plan at all!

The rest of the conversation left him a bit dazed but there was no way he was going to control his temper when Pidge implied that the situation was somehow their fault. Both she and Hunk knew how he felt!

This wasn’t what he wanted!

If he felt guilty about pretending to be with Keith, the idea of actually marrying him made him choke with the emotion.

Hell yeah, he’d like to marry Keith.

In the future of their probably completely fantastic, ridiculous relationship.

_That didn’t exist!_

Keith had managed to offer alternatives but Lance was trying too hard not to just take off and demand that the misunderstanding be fixed because he couldn’t take this.

It pushed at the threads keeping his feelings in check, wearing away at the already worn fibers. He didn’t want to ruin what he already had!

He almost leaped on Shiro’s out.

But…Keith was right.

This plan was their safest bet. Their only other option was to send Pidge down to infiltrate with her cloaking technology…and Lance wouldn’t endanger her like that.

He wouldn’t endanger any of them like that.

They were his family.

Lance wouldn’t tuck and run. He’d find a way to make this plan work.

But he wouldn’t drag Keith into it.

There was probably a way he could spin the situation to his favor when Keith took the out that Shiro offered.

“If Lance is staying, then so am I.”

Wait, what?

Keith…was going to stay?

And potentially marry him three times?

Lance wasn’t sure how he should take everything that was going on.

“So now what?’ Keith huffed, voice quiet as he looked up, eyes searching as if Lance had all the answers to their current problems.

“I…I don’t know.” He replied at last, stepping away from where he was practically plastered to Keith’s side, “I didn’t have much of a plan beyond ‘don’t let Pidge try to solo infiltrate a base’.”

Keith frowned at that, crossing his arms as he stared at the couch beside them, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

As cute, _and distracting_ , as Keith’s concentration face was, Lance couldn’t help but be a bit ashamed of himself.

He was better than this dammit.

It only took a few deep breaths to settle his clamoring thoughts and he took full advantage of that clarity.

They definitely had options.

“I think we have about three options here.” He sighed, a little unnerved at how quickly Keith had snapped to attention.

Military training never really left you.

“Options?” Keith echoed, shifting his weight almost anxiously, “I figured there’d be less to be honest.”

“They’re what I could think up on the spot, flyboy.” Lance shrugged, giving in to the urge to pace as he explained, “Option One, we call Shiro back and take the extraction.”

“Nope.”

“Would you let me finish?”

“Are all the options this bad?” Keith grumbled, looking almost hurt by the first suggestion, “If we wanted to go with Option One, we would have when Shiro offered.”

…He did have a point.

“Option Two,” Lance continued, emphasizing the words as he spoke, narrowing his eyes as Keith opened his mouth to argue, “We do the plan you suggested. Go out and completely wreck shit and try to refrain from getting captured for as long as it takes for Pidge to hack the system, if they don’t just kill us outright. Not gonna lie. Not my favorite option.”

Keith heaved a sigh and sat heavily on the arm of the couch, the ornamental tunic that served as their disguise draping around his slouched figure gracefully.

He was just too pretty.

It wasn’t fair. He was going to make Lance do something stupid if he didn’t stop.

“What’s Option Three?”

“We keep up with the disguise.” Lance said quietly, pausing in his pacing to watch Keith with a careful eye, “The engagement. The ceremonies. We let them keep us in the palace and use all of it to help us get into the rooms we need to bug.”

“What do you mean?”

“We’re supposed to be engaged and disgustingly devoted enough to get married _three times_. I don’t know about you but the couples I’ve met like that had a tendency to disappear behind closed doors. A lot. Especially in places that they really shouldn’t be.” Lance explained, willing the flush away from his face as he watched Keith’s dawning look of realization.

“So we sneak around and basically pretend to make out in a bunch of the rooms.” Keith said dryly, a curious red starting at the tips of his ears.

“It’s just an option.”

One that he would love if it included just a little less _pretending._ But hey, he was a good fucking person.

He almost wanted to pace again as Keith considered his words.

The silence made him second guess everything, panic starting to tinge his thoughts as he tried to wear a hole in the carpet beneath his feet.

Why had he even suggested Option Three?

He felt guilty enough as it was! And the temptation! It wouldn’t go away!

Please go with Option Two…

_Please._

He wouldn’t be able to take it.

“If…if it’s you, I don’t mind Option Three.”

“What?”

“We’re friends, right?” Keith scrambled, an almost manic cast to his eyes, “I trust you. And this is the safest option for the mission. The faster we plant those transmitters, the quicker we can go take the base out and get out of here.”

Lance tried not to deflate at his words, heart threatening to jump into his throat.

Right.

The mission.

Keith had already almost sacrificed himself multiple times for the sake of completing a mission. This wouldn’t be any different to him.

“Yeah. For the mission.” He said hoarsely, keeping a brittle smile on his face.

Why had ever considered that he might have thought about anything else?

~~~~

Keith willing his heart not to crack in half as Lance echoed Keith’s own statement, a smile on his face.

Fuck. He’d known this was going to happen. What had he expected? That Lance would trip over himself to declare his undying love at Keith’s feet? He’d known rejection was coming.

So why did it hurt so badly?

Pushing past the almost physical pain in his chest, Keith surged to his feet. He’d focus on the mission at hand and let that be the excuse. He’d use it as a crutch to get through this mess.

“So option three?”

Hurt almost seemed to spark in the depths of Lance’s cerulean eyes before he turned away, gesticulating wildly.

“Option three it is, Keithy boy! What’s a little pretend make outs between bros? We’ll show the rest of the team that we can do this! We’ll blow this mission out of the quiznacking water!”

“I still don’t think you’re using that word right.” Keith returned, their familiar banter pulling a slight smile to his face.

Lance turned back to retort but stopped, eyes lighting up with realization. “And we have nothing to worry about with the whole ceremony thing either! You know, since we aren’t actually Kitar and Leandro.” Lance winked, an unfamiliar stiffness to the familiar gesture, “It’s not gonna technically be binding until the last ceremony. As long as we stick to the plan, we should have nothing to worry about.”

Keith tried to ignore the painful swoop in his gut at Lance’s proclamation before forcing himself to nod.

It was all just pretend. It didn’t mean anything.

“You’ll be free to find your Mrs. Blue Lion.” He recalled, trying to keep the bitterness out of his tone.

He wasn’t sure he succeeded.

“Yeah.” Lance replied, voice sounding oddly subdued for a moment before he stalked over to where Keith slouched over the couch arm.

Keith sat up as the taller boy loomed over him, a bit of concern in his eyes before it shifted.

“Are you going to be able to keep up, mullet?” He grinned the light of challenge illuminating his eyes.

Those gorgeous dark blue eyes.

“What?”

Great. He was eloquence incarnate.

“You gonna be able to keep up with my mad romance skills? These people already seem like they expect us to be that sappy lovey dovey couple. I don’t know what they heard but we don’t want to blow our cover too soon.”

Blood threatened to rush to Keith’s cheeks again, the heat at the tips of his ears informing him of the losing battle.

Oh no. Lance couldn’t do this to him. He was just beginning to resign himself to his heartbreak.

This was almost cruel.

“You seem pretty sure of yourself.” Keith baited, “But I seem to remember a rather dismal record of romance since we got to space.”

“So I was a little unlucky!” Lance sputtered, “I’ll have you know that I am the romance master.”

Keith wished he knew. He wished he knew _first hand._

“I’ll believe that when I see it.” Keith snorted, something in his chest easing at Lance’s antics despite himself.

They were still competitive. There probably wasn’t anything that would ever really change that fact. But now…now there was an element of fondness to their bickering that completely banished their previous hostility from the activity.

Lance was so easy to rile up and he inspired the same rush of emotion in Keith.

It was nice.

He loved the friendship he had with Lance and honestly it was another reason why he’d hadn’t tried to make a move. He didn’t want to ruin one of the few good things he had.

“I’ll prove it!” Lance huffed, “I’ll romance your pants off.”

Yes please.

Keith’s eyes went wide at the proclamation and his own thought, barely forcing the burst of laughter that left him at Lance’s equally frantic face.

“Don’t laugh.” Lance grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest, a deep frown pulling at his mouth.

No no. He shouldn’t frown like that.

“Hey, knock off the brooding face. That’s my thing.” Keith tried, an apologetic tone to his voice.

That…was clearly not how he should have handled that.

“At least you admit it.”

And the evasive smile was back.

This was such a mess.

“Should we try to go plant a transmitter?” He offered hesitantly, unsure what to make of the somewhat forlorn look on Lance’s face.

The sooner they planted them, the sooner Keith could go privately deal with his heartbreak and move on.

“Are you ready for that?”

Oh. Oh, Lance really was too kind for his own good.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Lance nodded before helping him to his feet, expression serious, almost solemn. “I’ll let you dictate boundaries. I’m okay with physical affection but I know you’re still iffy on it. Tell me if something isn’t okay.”

Even heartbroken, he loved this beautiful boy so much.

“I’m…I’m okay with holding hands.’ Keith hummed, offering one hand, “But vie me some warning if you’re going to grab me. I’m not good with surprises.”

Holding hands. That…that was safe right?

Friends held hands all the time.

Lance reached out and curled his fingers over Keith’s proffered hand, the motion making butterflies erupt in Keith’s stomach.

He let Lance lead him from their room, his chatter washing over him like a wave.

This was nice.

Lance’s hand was a little sweaty and that was kinda gross but at the same time, he didn’t mind it all that much.

IT was so easy to hold Lance’s hand. Keith couldn’t help but marvel at how easily their fingers slotted together, Lance’s spindly digits feeling drastically longer than his own. Not even to mention how their different skin tones looked pressed together like this.

His hands weren’t small but damn if Lance’s hands didn’t make him feel like they were.

He was so caught up in his hand consideration that he ran right into Lance, smacking into his chest with a muffled thump.

“You okay there, space cadet?”

“Technically, we’re both space cadets.”

“Don’t interject logic into our conversations now.” Lance chuckled, “But seriously, I need your attention. There are a lot doors here.”

“Should we just check them all? Look around the rooms?” Keith tried, unsure of how to proceed.

They could just kick them down right? It’d go a lot faster.

“That is not a good idea.”

Well, fuck. He tried.

“What do you think, then?”

“Machinery like the computers here make noise, right? We could listen for the sound.”

“We’re gonna look really creepy listening at doors.”

“I don’t see you coming up with anything better.” Lance hissed, gesturing wildly with his free hand.

“I didn’t say it was a bad idea.” Keith teased, letting himself smile a bit at Lance’s put off expression.

He couldn’t let his mess ruin their friendship. He valued it too much for that.

If that meant he had to laugh and joke through every part of the situation, then so be it.

He’d channel a little bit of Lance while they were here.

“Just come listen at doors with me, dork.”

The half strangled noise that left him Lance dropped his hand was definitely due to surprise.

Not disappointment.

Absolutely not.

Shaking himself, Keith went to the door opposite of Lance, pressing his ear to the material for a moment before moving on to the next.

They’d almost made it through the entire hallway when Lance made a soft noise of triumph, gesturing for Keith to join him front of his door. Hesitantly, Keith crept over to where Lance was fiddling with the doorknob, a sharp click accompanying a low chuckle from the taller boy beside him.

“Did you just pick the lock?”

“I have like three older siblings. I had to learn certain things as a means of survival.” Lance hissed, grasping his hand again without even a second glance, “They did not hesitate to lock me out of the house.”

“That doesn’t sound very nice.”

“Older siblings are like that bro.”

Lance holding his hand was way more distracting than it had any right to be and Keith wanted nothing more than to just focus on the sensation all day but it was hard when Lance was pulling him into the room, shutting the door with a snap behind them.

“Did Pidge actually say anything specific about where we need to place the transmitter?” Lance asked, looking around the surprisingly small computer room, machinery humming gently as they searched.

“Usually we just have to find some kind of port. It doesn’t matter what kind.” Keith answered, looking over the table that dominated the far wall, monitors covering everything from the surface of the table to the ceiling.

His presence must have triggered something as the screens leaped to life, hundreds of rooms visible on what was clearly looking to be a security monitor.

“Oh, oh shit.” Lance swore, “They can watch us in our room.”

Keith’s eyes leapt to the monitor and sure enough their room was one of the many shown on the screen before him, although it seemed like the camera was angled in such a way that it couldn’t see into the bedroom. “It can’t see into the bedroom.”

“This camera can’t see into the bedroom.” Lance gagged, “Who knows if there’s more. I really hope they don’t pick up audio.”

Why….oh.

Oh that would be bad.

Their cover would be blown from the get go.

“This definitely means that they know we’re gone now.” Keith interjected, interrupting Lance’s inaudible grumbling, the Blue Paladin looking back to him with a frown.

“We need to hurry then.”

With a nod, Keith resumed his searching, squeezing Lance’s hand insistently when he finally tracked down a port on the far side of the monitor system.

Keith was honestly more than a little creeped out by the whole monitor situation, all in all. Did they have someone watching here all the time? Did the other people in the palace know?

Why did they have something like this?

Shuffling outside their door caught their attention and Keith couldn’t help but panic. They were caught. How were they going to explain how they had managed to get in here?

Fuuuuck.

The transmitter was placed but what were they going to do it they got found out now? There were still two more transmitters that needed to be placed if Pidge was going to be able to take those walls down in any timely fashion.

Lance’s hand squeezed his for a moment, his attention immediately going to where Lance was unbuttoning the high collar on his tunic with one hand, bottom lip caught between his teeth.

“Just follow my lead okay?”

Keith could barely focus on his words, too busy staring at the bared column of Lance’s throat and the way his pearly white teeth pulled at his bottom lip. His tongue swiped out over the bitten red and Keith couldn’t help but swallow harshly, following with only the slightest prompting as Lance pulled him over to the far wall, pressing his own back against the cleared wall.

He…he was worrying about something right?

Something important.

“Consider this your forewarning.”

There was only a second to try to process Lance’s words before he pulled him close, pressing their bodies together from chest to hip, one hand moving to press Keith’s face into the crook of his neck.

Long, slender fingers dug into his hair and it took everything in Keith’s power not to freeze up completely at the motion, his hands fluttering in the air as he tried to figure out what to do with them.

What the _fuck_ was this?

Did he die? Was this some horrible version of hell?

Because being this close to Lance, this _intimately_ close to Lance, was torture of the worst kind.

“Work with me here.” Lance hissed, guiding his awkward hands so that one rested on Lance’s hip and the other hooked behind his knee, pulling a leg up and pressing Keith even closer to Lance.

The door handle jiggled and a key scraped at the lock but Keith couldn’t bring himself to care. He was _so close_ to Lance. He could feel how fast Lance’s heart was beating from where they were pressed together, his pulse beating in the neck that Keith had buried his face in.

Caramel colored skin was _right there_ and Keith wanted nothing more than to open his mouth and taste it. He exhaled roughly, the motion pulling a stuttered gasp from Lance’s throat, one hand skating down between Keith’s shoulder blades, resting there as his other hand almost threatened to tangle in his hair.

This was the most blissful sort of torture Keith had ever experienced and he didn’t know how to cope.

He finally had his hands on Lance but it had all come after a horrible sort-of rejection and before the inevitable ceremony tomorrow where he’d marry Lance under a different name. It was dangling temptation and Keith hated it.

He’d never be able to forget the feel of Lance’s hip under his hand or the way the muscles in his leg twitched under his grip. The smell of his skin was so much stronger here, a sharp, almost spicy tone that made Keith want to inhale deeply and never stop breathing.

Lance smelled so good and he as so warm against him.

The door finally creaked open, a violent sound of surprise emanating from whoever had just walked in on them. “Oh, oh my Trinity. I am so sorry but I’m going to have to ask you to stop?”

What? But Keith just got here.

“Our bad.” Lance hummed, the vibration carrying over to where his chest was pressed to Keith’s, the cadence of Lance’s words almost pulling an exceptionally embarrassing noise from Keith, “You see, we felt a bit watched in our room. And we aren’t exactly into that.”

Why the fuck did his voice sound like that? Low and…sultry?

He didn’t ask to hear that sexy voice. How was he supposed to ignore that Lance could sound like _that?_

“Our apologies. It is palace protocol. But the bedroom is free of all monitoring equipment.” The guard sputtered, their embarrassment almost palpable from their voice alone.

Keith’s vision was currently taken up with the greatest temptation he’d seen in a very, _very_ long time. Would Lance even notice if he brushed his lips against his skin?

No. No that was a bad idea. Lance was his friend, they were firmly doing this marriage thing in the bro zone and he wasn’t going to jeopardize that!

“Well, we’d already been through there once but I mean it wouldn’t hurt to revisit an old favorite.”

Was Lance implying that they’d already….?

They’d only been here for like an hour!

“I see. Could you please return to your rooms? If you just leave, I won’t have to report this.”

“If you insist. Kitar, sweetheart, apparently we have to take this party elsewhere.” Lance grinned, the expression strained as he finally let up on the back of Keith’s head, eyes conveying a slight bit of relief…and guilt?

That was strange. Shit, should he try to play along?

Fuck it. Going for it.

“And we were just getting to the fun part.” He purred, trying to emulate the tone that Lance had been using.

Something about it must have worked because that was the reddest he had ever seen Lance’s face go in forever.

Success, then?

Shutting his mouth with a click, Lance grasped his hand and pulled him past the exasperated security guard, almost speed walking away from the scene of their crime. Lance didn’t say another word until they’d successfully shut the door to their room behind him and even then all he did was breathe a sigh of relief.

“That was too fucking close.”

“You were right about that fake making out thing.” Keith mused, “He didn’t really ask that many questions.”

“Well, people tend to get awkward when they run into other people in the middle of stuff like that.” Lance said in a rush, the blush from earlier yet to abate.

“It’s pretty useful in a pinch.” Keith nodded, trying to push down the hopeful feeling that sparked in his chest at the idea that it might happen again.

He might be able to feel Lance under his hands again.

Grimacing, he beat the feeling down with a stick and took a deep breath. “One down, two to go, right?” Lance grinned, smile not quite reaching his eyes as he continued to walk further into the room.

“Hopefully the other two go as smoothly.” Keith sighed, willing himself not to stare as Lance’s hands went to the line of buttons on his tunic, undoing the rest of them, “What are you doing?”

“Gonna go clean up, mullet. The ride here was a mess and I kinda want to check out the digs. This planet has a pretty early sundown and I want to get as much sleep as we can before tomorrow. We might have another chance to plant a transmitter, not to mention the whole ceremony thing.”

“Oh. Uh, I’ll see if they’ll bring us some food then?”

“That would be fantastic. Anything has got to be better than the food goo.”

Caramel taunted him as the blue silken tunic slid up and over Lance’s scarred back, the splatter of discolored skin perfectly matching the wound he’d had from the crystal explosion.

He wanted to follow. Wanted to finally come clean and lay everything out on the table.

Keith _wanted._

But he let him go, slumping against the door with a groan that barely made it past his teeth.

This whole situation was going to kill him.

~~~

Clean up.

Yeah. About that.

Lance just had to get out of that room. Had to get away from Keith before he did something stupid like spilling all his feelings and jumping Keith’s bones.

His neck almost seemed to burn from where Keith’s breath had hit his skin and the places where his hands had clutched at him still tingled. He’d only been a few moments away from Keith feeling his _interest_ a little more intimately.

He was glad that they’d managed to plant one of the transmitters but right now, Lance couldn’t focus. He was too keyed up.

A little time away from each other would help him clear his head and hopefully come up with a good game plan for tomorrow. They still didn’t know what the ceremony would entail tomorrow and whether or not there would be any opportunities for them to plant another transmitter.

And even when the transmitters were planted, they didn’t know how long Pidge would need to bust through the codes keeping her out. She was good but everything took time.

He let his tunic flutter to the floor as he walked into the spacious bedroom, firmly ignoring the bed that sat in the center of the room, gauzy curtains hanging to the floor and ivory bed sheets reflecting the colors of the setting sun.

It was gorgeous but Lance had a different destination in mind.

He stomped for the promise of the bathroom, an impressed whistle leaving him at the grand size of the room before him. An enormous tub was built into the far side of the bathroom, a burbling waterfall spilling over the wall to splash into the tubs bottom. Several stalls lined the side closest to him, a grand mirror taking up space directly in front of him.

Lance gazed at his own reflection, envying how composed he looked.

He didn’t feel composed.

He felt _tempted._

And it wasn’t fair. Keith was his friend! And he’d made up his mind but whenever Keith was close to him, it was hard to think, hard to reason.

He wanted to tell him. Keeping his feelings bottled up made him feel like a ticking time bomb, a Molotov cocktail with an ever shortening scrap of cloth.

Things were going to go south quickly if they didn’t get out of this situation.

Hands going to the intricate knot at the front of his pants, he untied it and let the rest of his clothing pool on the tiled floor, feet slapping against the cold material as he walked over to the tub, water already filling it as he walked closer.

Everything was proximity based it seemed.

Neat.

A good bath would help him clear his head and maybe relax him just a bit. Tomorrow was going to be an adventure in the worst way and a little bit of relaxation now would help.

Contrary to what he’d said to Keith, this marriage thing was going to be a big deal to him. Lance took commitment seriously. As serious as a flipping heart attack serious.

Even if they were getting married under false names, a part of Lance would still consider it _their_ commitment.

Marriage was a big deal in his family. His Mama and Papa had been married young and even if their marriage wasn’t flawless, they made it work. And they loved each other so much that it had seemed almost nauseating when Lance was a child.

But they had been his model. Their love, their relationship was what Lance aspired to. He wanted to marry for love, to be with the person that made his heart sing much in the way his parents had always described their affection for one another.

He loved Keith. Absolutely.

But a part of him worried that maybe he was in love with his ideal of Keith. They weren’t together. Keith was with someone else. There were very few interactions between them that he could really draw on to see if he knew Keith as well as he wanted.

There was so much Keith kept to himself. What if there were things that wouldn’t sit right?

He stepped into the steadily warming water and managed not to snort at the thought. If he could love Keith through everything that had happened so far, there wasn’t much he could find out that would make him love him any less.

Why did everything have to be so complicated?

For the first time in this whole trip, a part of him hated Allura. Hated her furiously. She had Keith and a deep, darkly jealous part of himself thought that he could love him better than she ever could.

She had let his heritage drive a temporary wedge between them, even if they’d resolved it rather quickly. She often treated him rather coldly when he didn’t immediately go along with what she wanted in a situation.

Their relationship didn’t seem very healthy but Lance desperately tried not to judge.

But it was so hard sometimes.

He heaved a sigh and let himself slide deeper into the bath, pushing his worries to the back of his mind.

Enough about Keith.

This was Lance time.

It didn’t take long for the warm water to lull him away from the stress he’d been carrying, his eyes sliding closed as he perched on the built in bench, arms splayed over the tub’s lid.

It was so nice. So warm.

He jolted awake at the hesitant press of cold fingertips to the top of his shoulder, dropping his head back to see Keith very pointedly looking at the ceiling. “Falling asleep in the bathtub is really dangerous, dipstick.”

“Didn’t mean to do that.” Lance hummed, voice still sleep slow and soft, “I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Tellia brought us food. And pajamas apparently. Yours are on the counter.”

Lance grumbled an affirmative, reaching for the towels sitting on the side and climbing to his feet, wrapping one thick span of cloth around his hips. He turned slowly, suppressing a yawn as he stepped out, frowning at the way Keith stared after him, eyes gone wide.

“What?”

“N-Nothing.”

Keith was being weird.

He’d made it all the way to the mirror before his brain caught up with the situation and he barely suppressed the squeak that threatened to leave his throat as he turned back to Keith.

A violently crimson Keith.

“I’ll….I’ll be in the living room?”

Keith scrambled past him and Lance tried desperately to will the ground beneath him to swallow him whole.

He’d just decided to jump up out of his bath while being _very_ naked in front of Keith. No big deal.

Breathing deeply, he turned to the pajamas sitting on the counter and pulled them on, tying the pajama pants tightly to keep them on his hips and deciding to forego the shirt for now.

He never slept with a shirt on.

It was weird.

If he just acted like everything was okay, then maybe Keith wouldn’t freak out either.

Totally foolproof. No issues there.

Except the fact that he was absolutely freaking out.

He’d just, for all intents and purposes, flashed Keith!

God, he was such a fucking creep. Just waltzing around naked. Half asleep and probably not folding his towel all that well either.

Damn it!

Hunk will never let him live it down if he hears about it.

He paced out of the bathroom with a frown, snagging his com from his own pants pocket as he walked by. He’d definitely need to call Hunk soon. If for no other reason than to vent.

Lance would explode it he had to keep all of this stopped up for much longer.

His first steps into the living room were greeted with a startled noise and the distinct noise of choking as Keith smacked at his own chest, dislodging his own problem as Lance rushed over.

“I’m okay! Just…I was just eating too fast.”

“We haven’t really eaten anything all day.” Lance nodded, grabbing a plate and plucking generously at the strange tray of fruits and what looked like sweets, “I don’t blame you. You didn’t wait for me, did you?”

“Of course I did!” Keith huffed, “I didn’t want you to think I’d eaten it all.”

“I don’t think you could eat all this.”

“I definitely could.”

“Your side is deceptive.”

Keith snorted and reached for more of the alien sweets, a sharp grin flung in Lance’s direction. “I can eat enough for several people. Shiro stopped taking me to buffets after the first few times. He was apparently ‘very weirded out’.”

Lance couldn’t help but laugh at the visual, tucking into his own plate with gusto. They continued to throw little comments at one another as they ate but otherwise the whole experience went on in silence, a companionable silence, but a silence nonetheless.

Despite his nap in the bathtub, Lance was exhausted. It had been a long, rough day and all he wanted was to indulge in some sleep. The bones in his jaw popped as he yawned and Keith gave him an equally tired look.

“I’ll take the couch?” He offered, violet eyes drooping closed.

“Nah, mullet. They watch those cameras, remember? We can’t let them think things are on the fritz. That bed is huge. We’ll have more than enough room for both of us.”

“Are you sure?” Keith mumbled, “I don’t mind the couch. Or the floor. I don’t…I don’t want to make this weird.”

“This is already weird.” Lance coaxed, giving in just a little bit to grab Keith’s hand with his own.

Keith’s calloused, pale hand. It felt so small in comparison to his own hand and just fit so perfectly with his own. “Just think of it like a sleepover. It’s no big deal. Just sharing a bed.”

With a tight nod, Keith followed him in and Lance tried not to let it hurt. They were friends. Friends shared a bed all the time. This wouldn’t be anything weird.

He’d shared a bed a few times with Hunk when things had gotten tense. It was nice to have someone there.

Releasing Keith’s hand at the edge of the bed, he flopped over one side, letting out a brief moan of delight at the way it cradled his back so perfectly.

There was no way he was leaving this bed anytime soon. Maybe there was a way he could steal the mattress for his room back in the castle?

It might require some planning.

He let his eyes flutter open to see Keith standing anxiously at the foot of the bed, hands kinda floating as if he was unsure what to do next.

His nervousness was a little adorable but Lance just patted at the far other side, the softness of the bed tempting him closer to sleep with every minute. “Just get in. This mattress is absolutely worth it.”

The last thing he heard was a soft noise of assent and then the bed dipped just slightly, another body worming its way under the covers.

Sleeping without the hum of the Castle was strange and Lance found himself drifting in and out of sleep, addled mind twisting in the softness of his current resting place and gravitating towards the other source of warmth that lingered just out of reach.

About midway through the night, the warmth came to him and he finally settled, the heat curling around his hips and resting heavily against the curve of his throat.

Now he could rest.

After that, he slept deeply only awakening when the first true rays of sunlight filtered through the bed’s gauzy curtains, gently rousing him in a way that he hadn’t experienced since before he left home for the Garrison.

For one incoherent moment, he thought he was at the beach again, the coolness of the early morning slowly being burned away by the hot Cuban sun. The illusion shattered as he sat up and it took him several heavy moments before he could beat his homesickness down.

“Lance?”

He looked up, Keith concerned stare doing more to wake him than the sun’s gentle insistence. “I’m up, I promise.”

“I was just checking. Tellia is here to escort us to the first ceremony.”

“Already?” Lance wheezed, panic abruptly flooding his system.

He thought he’d have more time!

“Lance, its early afternoon. You slept all morning.” Keith said dryly, gesturing to a set of clothes hanging in the closet, “They already brought your outfit.”

Looking between the hangar and Keith, Lance frowned. If their outfits were even reasonably similar, Lance was going to be concerned.

Why did they need to have so much of their back exposed? The outfits themselves were close to the ones they’d worn yesterday but the top part was more fitted, coming up to circle the neck while the vast majority of their backs and their arms were left bare.

Lance wasn’t exactly keen on walking around with his scars left bare for everyone to see.

“We don’t have a lot of time.”

“Just give me a minute.” Lance snapped, immediately feeling guilty at the hurt that flashed across Keith’s face.

“I’ll be in the living room whenever you decide to get with the program.” Keith retorted, the slightest growl evident in his voice.

Great. He’d managed to piss off his “fiancé” right before their first wedding ceremony. A plus, Lance.

He crossed the room as quickly as his sleep heavy limbs would allow and threw himself into getting ready, even taking a moment to try and tame his wild curls. They had already grown longer than he typically kept them so they were starting to get a bit out of hand.

Maybe Pidge would give him a hand with the whole haircut situation after everything had blown over.

As he was trying to think of ways to leave the room without coming off as a total asshole, Tellia knocked primly, her previous cheerful demeanor seeming strained. He came out without too much pomp, the relieved look on her face definitely ringing alarm bells in the back of Lance’s mind.

“Oh good. You are going to participate.” She sighed, “We need to hurry. The two of you took a little too long to get ready. The officiant was getting antsy.”

Maybe this really was a shotgun wedding.

Keith only shrugged when he threw him a questioning glance and offered his hand as the two of them trailed after Tellia, the tiny woman booking it through the palace halls.

He didn’t even think before grasping Keith’s hand, rubbing his thumb across the back before he could stop himself. Lance didn’t look to see Keith’s reaction to his slip up, only focusing on keeping up with Tellia.

She led them through winding corridors, several other inhabitants whispering as they all but ran by. Lance turned his head just in time to see familiar ornamental tunics, a humanoid duo giving them an impertinent wave as they rushed past, an amused sort of pity in their gazes.

Lance almost stopped to go question the mysterious duo, a part of him sure that they were the ones who were supposed to be living this farce but Keith pulled hard on his arm, almost tripping them both as they tried to keep up.

“Stop staring at other people!” Keith snarled, a hostile cast to his eyes.

What was that all about?

“You’re going to make us lose Tellia.” Keith added, looking almost guilty.

That made more sense.

“No need to worry, warrior Leandro, warrior Kitar.” Tellia breathed, relief in her tone, “We have arrived.”

Lance looked up in surprise, mouth going dry at the grand arch that laid before them, several other Libanians gathered around an altar. There were a handful of people seated in front of the arch and others trickled in behind them, whispers buzzing in the air as Tellia walked them forward.

“The devoted thought to sleep late, I see.” An older Libanian man chortled, a thick knotted beard rippling over his chest, the end of it almost hitting the altar before him, “It is no matter. We are honored to perform your ceremony.”

As they walked forward Lance swallowed harshly, his throat feeling like he’d guzzled a gallon of sand.

This was really happening.

He chanced a peek at Keith’s face, a stern determination in the cast of his brows as he marched forward resolutely. It was the kind of face he’d expect to see on Keith as he barreled down the aisle towards whoever was lucky enough to marry him.

It relaxed him more than he thought it would.

They took the steps leading up to the altar in unison, the expectant stares digging into Lance’s back as they stood in front of the officiant. “Face each other and clasp your hands over the basin.”

They turned and Lance gave Keith a small smile as he took his other hand, their fingers interlocking over the stone sink nestled in the center of the altar.

“Beloved people of the palace of Libanis, today we gather in great joy to celebrate the devotion of two decorated warriors. These warriors, through many trials and the tribulations of war, have found their peace and understanding in one another and asked that we perform their ceremony of binding in triplicate. On this day, we celebrate the binding of the body.”

This really was happening. He felt like he was going to throw up. Lance could feel panic crawling up the back of his throat, knees trembling as he plastered a smile on his face.

A hand squeezed his and he met Keith’s eyes, a similar nervousness there even as he stared ahead, determination clear in his face. “It’s okay.” He mouthed, a small smile wobbling on his lips.

He wasn’t alone here. They were in this together.

They could do this.

He took a deep breath and let his smile relax, squeezing Keith’s hand back in thanks.

“If there are no objections, we will continue on to the vows.”

Silence reigned for a moment and a wide smile crossed the officiant’s face.

“Let’s begin. Warrior _bzzzt_ , do you take this man to be your husband?”

Lance frowned for a moment as his translator fritzed, eyebrows furrowing as he stared at the officiant. “I do?”

“Excellent, Warrior _bzzt¸_ do _you_ take this man to be your husband?”

An equally perturbed look crossed Keith’s face and he cleared his throat for a moment before echoing Lance’s questioning statement.

Why had their communicators fritzed on the names? Leandro and Kitar had translated fine before. Maybe the transmitters they’d been carrying had jammed them up? Pidge’s technology had goofed with translators before. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time.

“If you would repeat after me, Blue one.”

_“You cannot possess me for I belong to myself.”_

_“But while we both wish it, I give you that which is mine to give. “_

_“You cannot command me, for I am a free person.”_

_“But I shall serve you in those ways you require,”_

_“And the honeycomb will taste sweeter coming from my hand.”_

_“I pledge to you that yours will be the name I cry aloud in the night,”_

_“And the eyes into which I smile in the morning.”_

_“I pledge to you the first bite of my meat and the first drink from my cup.”_

_“I pledge to you my living and my dying, each equally in your care.”_

_“I shall be a shield for your back and you for mine.”_

_“I shall not slander you, nor you me.”_

_“I shall honor you above all others, and when we quarrel we shall do so in  
Private and tell no strangers our grievances.” _

_“This is my wedding vow to you  
This is the marriage of equals.”_

Lance’s voice shook as he repeated the vow, willing the moisture away from his eyes. The words were lyrical and beautiful, a series of promises that he couldn’t see himself breaking.

Especially not with the man in front of him.

Damn him, but he meant every word that left his mouth.

It was difficult not to break down when Keith’s turn came around but he managed, keeping eye contact with Keith’s intense violet gaze the entire time even as his heart was breaking.

This wasn’t real. He didn’t mean the words.

No matter how badly Lance wanted him to.

The crowd oohed and ahhed appropriately after the vows, a few older Libanian women tearing up in the front rows as they watched. It tore at Lance’s already tattered heart. He’d wanted to get married where his family could be there to support him.

Where his Mama could cry loudly about her baby growing up and his Papa would pretend that his eyes weren’t swimming with just as many tears. He wanted a ceremony with Hunk at his back and his brother beside him, his tiny little niece dancing down the aisle with a basket of fragrant petals.

It was almost too much for him to bear.

He squeezed at Keith’s hands as hard as he could manage, taking solace in the way Keith squeezed back, a dim understanding in downturned violet.

The officiant droned on for a moment more, producing a bright purple stretch of cloth that he used to wind around their intertwined hands. “With that we have bound the two of you in body. To complete the ceremony in the way of your people, we shall have the exchange of symbols.”

An amused panic rushed through Lance and he almost laughed aloud. He didn’t get a ring.

What symbols were they supposed to exchange?

“As is the tradition for your people, we have prepared the symbols and their transferal device. Thanks to our technological advances, it will take far less time.”

A cold circle touched down on Lance’s back, right in the center of the exposed skin. There was a hum of machinery for only a moment before pain spiked through him, a yelp locked behind his teeth at the same time that Keith’s grasp turned crushing.

Just as quickly as it came, the pain began to fade and he watched as one of the Libanians took the machine away from Keith’s back at the same time as the cold circle left his own. He could feel the telltale trickle of blood from whatever they’d done and he tried not to snarl at the grinning officiant.

“By the power vested in me by Libanis and the Intergalactic Council of the Galra Empire, I pronounce the two of you wed in body!”

The cheer that went up threatened to deafen him and he could barely concentrate on the events that followed. There was a line of people who wanted to shake their bound hands, congratulations going in one ear and out the other as he tried to focus on the anchor that was Keith’s hands in his own.

It didn’t take long before Tellia was hustling them back across the palace, a knowing look on her face as she ushered them into their room. “Have a good night, you two. And just for your safety, try to keep your own bodily celebration inside your suite, yeah?”

Lance couldn’t help but flush at her insinuation, still shell shocked by the whole ceremony. “What the fuck just happened?”

Keith let out a bark of somewhat hysterical laughter, bringing their bound hands to his mouth so he could tear the knot out with his teeth. “I don’t know. We got married?”

“I know that part, mullet.”

“I think there was a vow where you wouldn’t slander me.”

“You know what your hair is.”

“Rude.”

The tension between them snapped in a rush and Lance plopped down on the couch grimacing as he could feel blood sticking to the fabric behind him. “What did they do to us?”

“I think we got tattoos.” Keith grumbled trying to crane his head around to see what had been punched into his skin.

“My Mama is gonna kill me.”

A snort left Keith at that and he threw up his hands in defeat. “I’m going to go throw this stupid outfit over the balcony and try to clean up whatever the hell they did. We should try for another transmitter when I get back.”

Lance nodded absently, looking up as Keith turned, a pit of ice dropping in his stomach as he made out the symbol that blazed from Keith’s skin, the blue stark against the ivory of Keith’s back.

That was the Blue Paladin’s symbol.

~~~~

“Tellia, you were supposed to keep the Paladins occupied!” Nazeer snarled, long beard tucked into his belt as he paced, “We only have a few days until Lady Haggar will arrive for the ‘quintessence binding’ ceremony and deal with them. You only have to detain them until then. Care to explain how they already managed to make it into one of the security rooms?”

“I am sorry, sir.” Tellia growled, “But you also told me not to let the Paladins become too suspicious of me. The Blue One is far more perceptive than our reports indicated.”

“Our reports indicated that they would be simple to dupe and they were correct!” Nazeer said sharply, looming over the tiny guide, “If you cannot keep up with your duties, I will have you replaced.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And put more guards around the real Leandro and Kitar. I don’t trust them.”

“Right away, sir.”

“The sooner we can take care of this Voltron, the better. Zarkon will reward us handsomely for sure.”


	2. Sometimes You Close Your Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Lance's revelation, things become even more complicated

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo, this was intended to have been a precious smutty little one shot and has now turned into a 50+ page monstrosity of interplanetary political intrigue and gratuitous pining.  
> I regret nothing.

The shuffle of paperwork was overly loud in the dark of her office and Taellia frowned deeply.

She’d worked as the liaison for hundreds of devoted couples since she had taken on this role. She’d seen people with a love so pure she’d been inspired to sing odes to it. She’d seen friends who had become lovers and lovers who had once been bitter enemies.

But she’d never seen something like this.

A wedding in triplicate, staged under false pretenses with a couple who were completely ignorant of the machinations and who were pining so badly for one another that Taellia could practically smell it.

She almost pitied the Paladins of Voltron.

Almost.

Even if the ceremonies were only intended as a means to an end, they were every bit as binding as the other weddings she had been placed in charge of.

Which meant a literal mountain of quiznacking paperwork.

And what a _mountain_ it was.

If not for the mess awaiting her, she’d pity them. She might even be able to interfere more directly but with _this?_

Neither Paladin was registered in the Empire’s system as anything other than capture at all costs and good frelling luck trying to identify their blasted species with the census bureaucracy’s backwards and absolutely outdated options.

It was almost enough to inspire Taellia to smother herself with her own ribbons.

She heaved a sigh through her teeth, grimacing once more at the sheer pile of forms she still needed to work her way through before they could even think about moving on to the next ceremony.

Taellia couldn’t afford to mess up this assignment. It was the closest she had come to Nazeer in over a year.

And she couldn’t let those two poor pining fools get in the way of her mission.

Maybe Matt would have a few suggestions on how to deal with their sneaking around. It was almost time for her check in.

Damn, if she didn’t have one hell of a story to tell.

~~~~

Lance stared after Keith’s retreating back, panic stealing his voice.

Maybe…maybe he was mistaken.

There were a lot of symbols out there. The one belonging to Blue had been around for thousands of years! There was every possibility that Leandro had adopted it as his own.

Right?

He squashed the tiny tendril at the back of his mind that was viciously happy at the way _his_ symbol looked etched into Keith’s skin.

_His symbol. Not Allura’s._

He dug through his pants pockets roughly for his com link, willing himself not to hyperventilate as he turned it on with shaking fingers, desperation driving him.

“Hunk?”

He inwardly cursed at how reedy his voice sounded, panic and the residual heartbreak tainting his words.

“He’s on his way, Lance.” Shiro’s voice said softly, so much understanding in his tone that Lance’s eyes threatened to water, “Are you okay?”

After trying and failing to pull in a deep breath, Lance pushed away from the wall, walking onto the balcony to sit half hidden under the fronds of the giant leafy plant sprawled over the railing.

“Could you have Pidge look into what symbols are associated with Leandro and Kitar? I want to make sure of something.”

He couldn’t jump to conclusions. Not about something like this.

Not with the stakes as high as they were.

If what he feared was correct and that symbol truly was that of the Blue Paladin, they never had a cover to begin with.

They would be in more danger than any of them had anticipated.

This whole thing would be so much more than heart wrenching, guilty torture.

It would be a trap.

“What’s going on, Lance?” Shiro asked gently, “If there’s a problem, we’ll come get both of you.”

Lance’s blood ran cold as he registered Shiro’s words. If they were in this trap, the others would be in grave danger if they even tried to stage a rescue attempt.

They’d all be trapped. And that was if the Libanians didn’t just shoot them out of the sky.

Lance couldn’t let that happen.

No matter what.

The surge of determination and protectiveness settled his panic to a low hum and he let it steel him, cupping his hands around his communicator.

It was a good thing Shiro couldn’t see him right now. Their dauntless leader was very good at calling his shit in person.

“I think I’ve figured out who the real Leandro and Kitar are and I just wanna be sure.”

Shiro made a soft noise of acknowledgment, a burst of static indicating a change in hands just as he’d begun to speak.

“Lance? I’m here, buddy.”

He’d never been so happy to hear Hunk’s voice in his life.

For a variety of reasons.

He couldn’t help the tears that finally spilled over, a shuddered inhale making Hunk coo soothing sounds through the com.

“It’ll be okay, Lance.”

“I’ll…I’ll just leave you two alone.” Shiro said awkwardly, the com picking up on the echo of his footsteps.

“What happened?”

“I married Keith.”

“Lance, I know this is rough, considering everything, but you did stay. You knew we wouldn’t crack the code in one night.”

“That isn’t it, Hunk.” Lance choked, throat tight as he curled deeper into himself, “This…this wasn’t…This wasn’t how I wanted any of this to happen. It should have been more. My family should have been there, not a bunch of strangers!”

Hunk hummed and Lance could almost see his best friend’s understanding expression from the sound.

“You’ve put a lot of thought into what you wanted, huh?”

“Marriage is so big to me, Hunk. You’re supposed to do it with the person you’ve agreed to make this commitment with.” Lance sniffled, “I want a love like my parents. I wanted this to be the next step in a relationship not a complete catapult.”

“It isn’t a binding thing, Lance. You can try again when you get to that point in a relationship.” Hunk consoled, “You’re married under fake names.”

The new tattoo on his back twinged with remembered pain and Lance couldn’t help but cringe.

He didn’t even want to consider how wrong Hunk might be.

For the sake of his heart.

“I meant every vow I made, Hunk. Every last word.” Lance admitted, voice barely above a whisper, “I love him so much.”

“Then why don’t you tell him?” Hunk responded, tone equally as soft, “You’re only hurting yourself.”

“I can’t.” Lance hiccupped, “It isn’t right. He’s not…someone else has him. And I won’t be a homewrecker.”

“Lance…”

“Tell Allura that I’m sorry, please? I don’t want her to think I’m moving into her territory.”

“Lance, what are you talking about?”

“Allura and Keith.”

“What?”

“I’m not blind, Hunk. Even if their relationship makes me actively upset on Keith’s behalf, I’m not going to mess it up. Not if she makes him happy.”

A burst of static accompanied Hunk’s sigh and Lance only curled further under the frond.

He knew what he saw. They were together. He’d asked before and Keith had never answered.

It was as good as an admission.

“Talk to Keith, Lance. If you love him as much as you say you do, give him a chance to know. Clear the air between the two of you before things go to hell. You can’t keep torturing yourself because you pushed yourself into a corner. And please, please, Lance. Be careful. I’m worried about you.”

“I’m worried about me too, buddy.”

“Want me to sing the happy song?”

A wet snort pulled itself from Lance’s chest and he giggled.

“Yes, please.”

As Hunk launched into the first verse of “Miss New Booty”, Lance could feel a little tension ease in his chest.

Things were absolutely _not_ okay.

He was still very much heartbroken and bitterly jealous. He and Keith were still in grave danger.

But for this moment….

Lance was alright.

~~~~

Waking up this morning had been an _experience,_ to say the very least.

For the vast majority of his life, Keith had been an exceptionally light sleeper. Any slight noise would pull him from rest, triggering his instincts and basically making it impossible for him to get more than a few hours of sleep on any given night.

Throw him into the middle of an intergalactic war and well…

He was lucky to sleep at all.

But last night, that was probably the most he’d slept in weeks. Of course, waking up had been more than a shock.

Keith wasn’t sure how he and Lance had ended up inching towards each other throughout the night but we’d woken up this morning securely cocooned in Lance’s arms, face pressed against the neck that had tempted him so sorely the day before.

For a precious few minutes, he didn’t react, only snuggling deeper into the embrace and reveling in Lance’s sleep warm affection.

He’d never had a more pleasant morning.

Until his brain woke up, of course.

It had been a fight, both physical and mental, to extricate himself from Lance’s grasp. He didn’t want to go, to leave the cage that Lance had created for him in the night. His hands had been warm on his back, the expanse of his chest ridiculously comfortable despite how skinny Lance looked.

There was muscle there.

Keith could vouch for it. He’d vouch all damn day.

But it wasn’t right. Lance had said he was okay with physical affection but he probably didn’t mean like this. This was supposed to be firmly in the “bro zone”.

He pulled himself away before he could question it and the craving for Lance’s touch had haunted him for the rest of the day. Keith had tried to suppress his excitement over holding Lance’s hand again and had managed for the most part during the ceremony.

The ceremony that probably represented the last crack in his heart. Sitting through something like that was more than he could stand. It wasn’t like any ceremony he’d ever seen on Earth, those had always sat awkwardly with him but this?

This made him ache for the real thing. He wanted so badly for that to have been _theirs_. A marriage of equals, indeed.

But it wasn’t. There was nothing between them. No relationship to lock down. Lance wasn’t his ‘til death do they part and that _hurt._

He’d meant those vows. Meant them in ways that he didn’t think he’d ever mean again.

What was he thinking? Did he really expect them to be able to go back to their old dynamic after Keith had gotten a taste of what it could be like?

What it would be like to wake up in Lance’s arms every morning? What it would be like to call Lance _his?_

They’d already gotten one transmitter planted. Maybe that would be enough. Pidge was good. He had to get out before this blew up in his face. He had to run first.

He couldn’t keep getting close to Lance like this. He was already hurting enough.

If this kept up, he was going to be completely shattered.

_He wouldn’t be able to take it._

Keith ripped at the buttons holding his tunic together, tearing the ornate fabric off of him and throwing it to one corner of the room, a dark crimson stain at the hem from whatever they’d tattooed into his back.

Whatever Leandro’s symbol was, surely?

Maybe the healing pods would be able to remove it when they got back to the Castle.

He sat down heavily on the bed in the center of the room, dropping his head in his hands and fighting the urge to curl completely into a ball. Should he call Shiro?

What…what would he even say?

He wanted to take the out. He wanted away from Lance before he tried to give him what was left of his broken heart.

This was _his_ mission, though. The one he had volunteered for. He knew what he was getting into when he’d turned down the out the first time.

Keith wouldn’t give up. He wouldn’t give the Libanians the satisfaction of running him off before the job was done.

These feelings he had, he’d bury them as far as he could. Prioritize safety and the mission above everything. Maybe even sleep in the bathroom if he had to.

He’d keep Lance at arm’s length. Protect himself.

If that was what it took, he’d do it.

Mind made up, he surged to his feet and shucked the ornamental pants, leaving them to fall where they would on the floor. The mess of his clothes would make it more believable if they had a housekeeper come to check.

They were supposed to _celebrating_ after all.

There was only one thing people would be expecting them to be doing right now and the idea sent a flash of heat over Keith’s skin before he pulled himself back under control.

He’d push down his libido too if he had to.

It couldn’t be that hard to ignore how fucking _hot_ Lance was. He’d done it pretty successfully for the first few weeks they were in space. Granted, Lance had been a prick for the first few months they’d been in space so it hadn’t been that hard to ignore his attractive face in favor of trying to punch it.

Maybe he could channel a bit of that old rivalry mindset again.

Even if he couldn’t bring himself to truly be that angry with Lance again, broken heart and all.

The closet before him fell prey to his rampaging hands and he dug around in the mass of foreign clothes until he found something he’d actually feel halfway comfortable wearing. The pants threatened to tangle under his feet but he made due, the tunic he found similar to the one he’d shown up to the planet on but loosened enough he had full range of motion.

He was ready.

Lance would be expecting him soon for another transmitter foray and he wanted to be prepared for anything. Even if they had to take out a guard rather than fake him out with public displays of affection.

Keith was down to punch some guards.

Slipping from the doors to the bedroom, Keith blinked in surprise at the empty living area, brow furrowing in frustration. He wasn’t even gone that long! How had Lance disappeared?

The soft murmur of voices caught his attention and he turned his narrowed eyes to the open balcony doors, the voices growing louder as he moved closer.

Who was Lance even talking to?

From this angle, he could see Lance curled up under the fronds of the balcony’s plant, legs pulled tight to his chest and head bent over his cupped hands.

And he was _crying._

It was enough to crack Keith’s carefully reasoned resolve and he had to fight down the urge to slide to Lance’s side, _anything_ to get him to smile again.

“ _Why don’t you tell him?”_

Hunk, then.

Of course. Lance would turn to his best friend when he was upset. It only made sense.

Keith tried viciously not to feel jealous. There was no way he compared to the actual human teddy bear that Lance considered a best friend. He grudgingly gave Hunk the good consoler point.

Words were not Keith’s forte.

“ _You’re only hurting yourself.”_

Who? How?

He was missing something here. Were they talking about him? Who else would Lance need to talk to? Was it about the whole marriage thing? Was Lance going to bail?

“I can’t.” Lance hiccupped, the sheer grief in his tone making Keith’s heart twinge in empathetic pain, “It isn’t right. He’s not…someone else has him. And I won’t be a homewrecker.”

_What._

Was…was Lance pining after some guy? Lance? Straight as a fucking rail, Lance?

A taken guy, no less!?

He had to be missing something. Who were they talking about?!

“ _Lance…”_

“Tell Allura that I’m sorry, please? I don’t want her to think I’m moving into her territory.”

Oh. Oh shit. He had a crush on someone Allura was dating/into.

Was it Shiro? Cause Shiro was basically his _brother._

And, dammit Shiro. This happened everywhere they went!

As far as he knew, Allura and Shiro were too busy dancing around each other to really notice anyone else. A sigh threatened to lift his chest and blow his cover but he held back.

He shouldn’t be listening. This was a private conversation between Lance and Hunk. It wasn’t any of his business and at this point, it was only giving him false hope.

So what if he liked Shiro? Lots of people did. Shiro tended to have that effect on people. It made trying to pick up any people on Keith’s end very, _very_ difficult.

Still, he might give Shiro a rather thorough little brother grumble fest when he got back. He pushed off the wall and prepared himself to walk back into the bedroom, already considering whether or not to hide in their gigantic bathroom when he heard Hunk’s voice once more.

“ _Lance, what are you talking about?”_

Wait, Hunk would definitely know if it was Shiro, right? Then why the questioning?

Was he mistaken?

“Keith and Allura.”

It was like everything narrowed down to that one point in time and Keith barely dared to breathe. Lance was talking about _him?_ He risked a glance around the corner, still only seeing the barest hints of the boy he loved, obscured as he was by a giant leafy plant. He darted back to the wall beside the door, pressing as close as he dared.

He could barely believe what he was hearing. Please, _please,_ let this not be some weird kind of heartbroken hallucination.

“ _What?”_

Thank you, Hunk for giving physical voice to the one resounding word in his brain at that particular moment.

“I’m not blind, Hunk. Even if their relationship makes me actively upset on Keith’s behalf, I’m not going to mess it up. Not if she makes him happy.”

Fuck.

What a beautiful, stupid boy.

Him? With Allura?

Keith almost couldn’t suppress his snort of derisive laughter. He respected her authority…for the most part. They didn’t see eye to eye on most things and honestly, he didn’t see the appeal of her. Sure, Shiro thought she was gorgeous and Lance had hit on her non-stop at the beginning of this whole space clusterfuck but Keith…didn’t get it.

Women were pretty but they didn’t really hold any allure for him.

Certainly not the way Lance did.

The Lance who _liked him!_

Really, truly liked him. Enough to suffer in silence when he thought that Keith might be happy in another relationship.

And Lance really was suffering. It was enough to immediately sober Keith’s rocketing happiness. Lance was going through all of this, this whole mess of faked intimacy and marriage for the mission, completely ignorant to the truth of the matter.

Why would he even think Keith was with Allura?

Was it…..oh, fuck, _really?_

That?

The one time he didn’t respond when Lance asked if he was with the Princess? That’s all it took? One moment of obstinacy in their rivalry was all it took to ripple into their pathetic pining now?

He wanted to step into the past and punch himself in the face.

He also wanted to run onto the balcony and gather Lance up in his arms. He wanted to finally, _finally,_ act on the feelings he held for Lance.

The sound of Hunk singing bolstered him into action and he walked back to the bedroom doors, leaning against them as he thought. He couldn’t just jump into everything.

Lance would think he’d lost his mind. Or that he was actively trying to “cheat” on Allura.

Would it be wrong to just confront him about the whole thing? He’d hadn’t meant to eavesdrop on his conversation with Hunk but it sounded like Lance was just as loathe to talk about his feelings as Keith was.

On their own, they’d only keep dancing around each other until nothing was left.

Lance would understand that, right?

The patter of slow footsteps caught his attention and he looked up to see a startled Lance, eyes red-rimmed and watery. It made his heart squeeze painfully, all thoughts of his previous resolve dashed by the information he’d accidentally stumbled across.

How could he keep Lance at arm’s length now?

They were going to be a horrid distraction to one another now but they’d make it work.

They had to.

~~~~

Seeing Keith standing outside the bedroom doors after his conversation with Hunk almost felt prophetic and Lance couldn’t help but freeze up. Something in Keith’s face looked different, softer, almost. He looked thoughtful as he leaned against the door, a different alien outfit draped over him, the damning tattoo covered completely.

He looked calm, if a bit troubled, almost as if trying to puzzle something out.

“What do you think of Shiro?”

The question pulled Lance up short and he lifted an eyebrow incredulously. “Is this some kind of trick question? Do you have Shiro on speaker waiting so he can run me through drills til I die when we get back?”

“Shiro wouldn’t make you run drills until you die.” Keith frowned, looking almost confused, “He’d make us all run the drills.”

Even his confusion was adorable, dammit.

Deep breaths, he could do this. He could survive the next couple days. Hunk and Pidge were good. One more transmitter would increase their capacity exponentially.

Just a bit more and he could go back to the Castle and avoid Keith until he could get his heartbreak under control.

“Shiro is pretty great.” He admitted, breezing past Keith to the filled closet just beyond their bedroom doors, Keith’s gaze downturned as he considered Lance’s words, “I look up to him a lot. He’s the reason I applied to the Garrison. I was inspired by him. I wanted to be like him.”

“That’s…that’s actually really sweet.”

Lance snorted at the hesitant words. What was Keith expecting?

“It definitely doesn’t hurt that he’s built like a Greek god.” Lance mumbled, back going rigid when he heard Keith choke.

The Red Paladin was almost as scarlet as his lion and Lance just focused on the clothes under his hands, a bit disbelieving of his own words.

Why? Why had he said that?

“What do you think about Allura?”

Lance’s hands stilled on the tunic he’d pulled from the mass of clothes and he frowned, brows furrowing. This was dangerous territory.

Why was Keith asking about Allura?

There wasn’t any reason why he should, right? What was he playing at here?

“I have a lot of respect for Allura.” Lance said carefully, looking over to where violet eyes practically pinned him to the spot.

There was a considering hum and Keith cocked his head to the side, those damning eyes still watching him intently. “Is that it?”

This had to be some kind of trap. He wasn’t sure how but Keith was trying to bait him into something. Was he worried Lance was going to go after Allura?

Because, that ship had fucking _sailed._

“She’s a gorgeous alien princess. What do you want me to say? She reminds me of my oldest sister sometimes and that kind of made it weird to keep hitting on her after a while. I wish she’d chill a bit. I don’t like how she talks to you sometimes and I wish she’d see me as something other than the general team nuisance.” Lance rambled, turning his eyes back to his tunic and the matching pants he pulled from the closet.

The crackle of dried blood on his back made him cringe as he turned tail and retreated from Keith’s questioning into the bathroom, heart pounding.

“You aren’t the team nuisance.” Keith called after him, something soft and unnamable in his voice.

It was almost enough to make Lance tear up once more.

This was all too much for one day. He had some major emotional whiplash going on and nowhere to really go to recover.

Shaking away the thoughts in his head, he changed quickly, idly noting that his chosen outfit was once again a twin to the clothes Keith had chosen.

They really didn’t give them a lot of variety did they?

He met his reflection’s gaze boldly, taking a deep breath and plastering a smile on his face.

They had another transmitter to plant. Things to do. Guards to fool.

A base to flipping blow to hell.

Steadied, Lance sauntered through the bathroom door, a quiet Keith waiting for him on the edge of the bed. Upon hearing his footsteps, Keith looked up abruptly, a flash of a smile appearing on his face for a moment before he climbed to his feet, hand outstretched innocently.

Lance couldn’t help but take it, the curl of their fingers together making his heart thud painfully in his chest.

How did Allura stand it? How could she ever stand to be so harsh with him?

Lance wasn’t sure if he could ever really go back to how awful he had been during his period of denial. Not after seeing Keith’s smile directed at him like that.

He’d do whatever it took to protect that smile.

“Ready?”

“Psh. Are you ready?” Keith grinned, a note of something unfamiliar in his words.

It threatened to distract Lance further but he pushed it down, willing a cocky smirk to spread over his face.

“Born ready, baby.”

The pet name made Keith blink at him owlishly, a hint of a smile pulling at his mouth.

He was being weird. Weirder than normal. Ever since he’d come out of the bedroom.

Maybe he’d had his own little vent session. Shiro had left in a hurry once Hunk had come to answer Lance’s com, after all.

Lance couldn’t fault him. That ceremony…it had been something else.

He let Keith pull him along, a flicker of a smile pulling at his own face.

As nice as this was, he couldn’t let himself get used to it. At the end of the day, they still weren’t together and all these “bonding moments” wouldn’t mean anything.

He couldn’t _let them_ mean anything.

The hallway beyond their room was just as quiet as yesterday but something tingled along Lance’s arms and he frowned. “Something isn’t right.”

“You feel it too?”

Lance nodded once, the action almost birdlike, letting Keith pull him closer so they could talk in hushed voices. Lance couldn’t help but lean in a little, letting the distance between them take on a decidedly intimate feel, their bowed heads almost touching as they surveyed their surroundings.

“Someone is watching us.” Keith breathed, the heat of him distractingly close to Lance’s lips.

“The guard probably ratted us out. We definitely were somewhere we weren’t supposed to be.” Lance hummed, fighting to keep his gaze firmly fixed on Keith’s own and not his lips.

“I’m honestly not surprised.” Keith huffed, the puff of his breath making Lance shiver, even as Keith’s free hand crept up around the back of his neck.

The press of Keith’s fingers made Lance _burn_ and he wanted to move the scant inches between them, to close the distance and see exactly what Keith’s lips tasted like.

This was so dangerous.

“Maybe we should split up for a bit.” He suggested, hating every word that left his mouth, “Throw them off. It shouldn’t really matter which terminal we make it to. If we both succeed, that’ll be all three.”

For a moment, he could have sworn that Keith looked disappointed. Almost like a child deprived of an event they were excited for but just as quickly as he saw the expression, it disappeared.

“What do we say when they ask us what we’re doing?” Keith smirked, leaning just a smidgen away and Lance fought down the urge to chase after him.

“I suppose you’ll have to wing it.” Lance snarked, “Try not to embarrass yourself.”

Keith furrowed his brows at the familiar jab before his face smoothed into a cheeky grin, “I think I’m more likely to embarrass you. The poor kitchen. How will they feel when I go raid it to feed my exhausted husband? His stamina leaves something to be desired but I adore him anyway.”

Lance could feel his entire face flush crimson, almost as badly as the _incident_ yesterday when the sultry curl of Keith’s voice had threatened to pull him to _full attention_.

“I don’t think you’re going to find a terminal in the kitchen.” Lance coughed, trying valiantly to regain his composure both over Keith’s words and the _insinuation_ within them.

There was something that curled happily in his chest at Keith calling him his husband. And something that made his heart sing about being told that he was adored.

Even if it was an act. Nothing but a ruse. A prepared story.

About how he’d literally screwed his husband to unconsciousness and was dutifully bringing his poor tuckered out mate some food.

Heat threatened to rush over Lance’s skin at the thought and he took a hesitant step backwards, trying to ignore the way Keith’s hand trailed over his shoulder before falling back to his side.

“Maybe not.” Keith shrugged, “But it’s probably a decent cover story.”

“It would be if you didn’t look so fucking put together.” Lance blurted, internally swearing at his own inability to shut the fuck up.

Keith only lifted one eyebrow before lifting his hand and raking it through his hair, ebony strands easily falling into a mussed disarray.

Lance couldn’t even remember to feel guilty, to feel terribly about encroaching.

It was hard to remember his name as he watched the way Keith pushed his fingers through his hair, the resulting look almost disgustingly _sexy._

He wanted to be the one dragging his hands through Keith’s hair.

This was temptation. It was hell.

He was being dragged down to damnation by a violet eyed demon with a grin like sin and hair like the night sky.

He’d never been so content to fall.

“Like that?” Keith asked, voice once again falling into the husky purr that threatened to crawl up Lance’s spine.

He was so fucking screwed.

~~~~

The roar of his heartbeat in his ears was almost deafening.

This… _this_ was pushing every line they’d put together so far and Keith was _terrified._

What if he’d heard wrong? What if he scared Lance off?

It was risky. A chance he shouldn’t be taking with the situation as it was.

But…

Lance’s reactions were everything he’d wanted.

Now that he knew what to look for, Lance was _obvious._ The hunger in those gorgeous blue eyes was unmistakable. It made Keith’s heart sing to see the mirror to his own want there.

And when he’d said that fake story? As embarrassing as it was to actually say the words out loud, it was worth it to see the expression on Lance’s face. He’d never seen someone look actively lovesick before but if he ever had to describe it, Lance’s face would be the only thing to come to mind.

It had taken every scrap of restraint in his body not to just close the distance between them and claim Lance’s lips for his own. Outside their room wasn’t exactly the greatest place for that.

And he didn’t want anyone around for what would inevitably happen afterward. He still wasn’t sure how he was going to convince Lance he wasn’t with Allura. That the very idea of being Allura’s made him vaguely nauseous.

After what Lance had said about her, it would be difficult. Lance had a great respect for Allura, even though he clearly disagreed with their apparent relationship.

It was sweet and frustrating as all hell.

He let his hands fall away from where they raked through his hair, handily destroying the somewhat put together look he had managed before the ceremony this morning. And if Lance’s reaction was anything to go by, he very much looked the part of someone who had just fucked their husband into unconsciousness.

Heat flashed over his skin and threatened to pool deeply in his gut at the thought and he could help but give Lance a slow smirk. “Where are you going to try for?”

For a moment, the Blue Paladin only opened and closed his mouth helplessly, the whole expression making Keith think of a fish out of water. Had…Had he actually struck Lance _speechless?_

A warm glow of pride lit his chest and his smirk softened into a smile.

Keith really did love him.

_So much._

“I…I was going to try for one of the rooms closer to the diplomatic chambers.” Lance stuttered, “I figured Pidge would be able to use those best.”

He couldn’t help but nod at Lance’s logic, some of the pride directing itself towards the other boy. They really did make a good team. Keith wasn’t sure how well he would have done on this mission by himself.

Diplomacy and acting had never really been strengths of his. But sitting around the castle waiting for transmitter signals would have been torture.

Despite everything, despite the fake marriage and the way it definitely had thrown a strange wrench into their relationship, Keith was happy that Lance was the one with him now.

And now that he knew the truth of Lance’s feelings for him?

He was going to make sure that Lance knew they were reciprocated _in full._ Until then, he was going to take everything he could from this experience and make sure their mission went as smoothly as possible.

He’d have plenty of time to show Lance how much he meant to him after this mission.

Almost hesitantly, Lance took another step back, guilt starting to rush into his countenance. “We should get going? If we’re wandering around for too long, they’re going to get suspicious.”

“Meet back here in an hour?” Keith suggested, taking an unconscious step forward for Lance’s step back.

He didn’t want Lance to run from him. Not when he knew that his pathetic pining had been mutual.

This really was the worst distraction. He wanted nothing more than to drag Lance back into their room and lay everything out on the table. Dancing around problems was never his style.

He’d wait the hour. He’d plant the transmitter…and raid the kitchen. And then, he would lay it all out. Consequences be damned.

They hadn’t really eaten all day and he was starving, some hidden joke to his half-Galra physiology. He was constantly hungry.

It had been a _struggle_ to wait for Lance last night when Taellia had finally brought them a meal.

He let Lance scurry away as he mused over the ache in his stomach, turning his back on their suite door and making his way in the opposite direction. Keith wasn’t really sure where exactly he was going but there was a pretty appetizing smell in the general vicinity of this part of the palace.

That usually meant food, right?

He peeked around corners and kept to the shadowy parts of the hall as he tried to track down the potential source of the good smell. There wasn’t any sense in being confronted before he had to.

As he moved the smell grew closer and he zeroed in on it, attention to his surroundings fading to the background for a moment in anticipation of the food cooking in what he could now determine to be the kitchen.

That moment of inattention cost him.

Keith reflexively swung when a hand grasped him by the back of the neck, a force dragging him into an adjacent room even as he made contact with his unseen assailant.

“Quiznacking frell, you little shit.” The voice hissed, releasing Keith abruptly and staggering a few steps back, “You fight like one of our assassins. What in the name of the blasted Mother?”

The swearing continued for a moment longer as Keith turned, the familiar ceremonial tunic catching his attention before the humanoid features of the man in front of him could. He scanned him over briefly, noting the long dark hair and slitted eyes.

There was no doubt about it, this was the man he had been mistaken for, the one whose place he’d taken in this farce of a marriage.

This was Kitar.

“What do you want?” Keith snarled, never letting his guard waver.

Kitar had caught him off his game once. It wouldn’t happen again.

“I just wanted to frelling talk to you!” Kitar snapped, rubbing the bridge of his nose where Keith’s strike had connected, “I’m sure you’ve figured out there’s been one hell of a mix up by now, right? Not even you aliens are that dumb.”

“You are not making me want to talk to you.” Keith said dryly, “And yeah. Clearly something is up. Care to explain?”

“You need to make your mind up, kid. Either you want me to talk or you don’t.” Kitar scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest grumpily.

“What do you know about what’s going on?”

“Probably a lot more than you do, all things considered.” Kitar sighed, “This whole thing is fishy. We got here first and were immediately shuffled along as the diplomats. They were waiting for you in a completely different way.”

“Are you saying this wasn’t a mix up?”

“I’m saying that there’s probably more to this situation than either of us really understand.” Kitar said quietly, “But I’m not gonna lie and say that I’d switch back. I’m glad we got to be diplomats.”

“What?” Keith blurted, “They’ve been talking this whole time about how much you and Leandro adore each other. Like some kind of warrior love story for the ages?”

Kitar laughed deeply, shaking his head. “That’s pretty rich, kid.” He hummed, “Leandro and I hate each other. This entire marriage was a ploy between our clans to reignite the clan war. They’re expecting one of us to kill the other and thus set off the entire war once more. That and a way to implicate this planet into a scuffle.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Keith snarled, “This mess we’ve been put in is because your family is expecting you to kill Leandro?”

“Or have Leandro kill me? Yeah. The civil war on Terria has only just ended and a lot of families aren’t happy with the peace that your princess negotiated. They would probably do anything to get back into the warfare that made our planet such a galactic power. It definitely wouldn’t hurt if we could finally have a real reason to attack Libanis.”

“We came to your planet because you _asked_ us to.” Keith hissed, fists clenching at his side, the urge to throw another punch burning in the center of his chest, “We organized your peace because you _called_ for us!”

“The people who were losing our war called for you.” Kitar said quietly, “ _My_ people were losing and yet they won’t stop trying to reignite the conflict. They think Voltron will be on their side. Especially if Leandro takes my life.”

“I…This is enough of a fucking mess without your planet deciding to try and destroy itself!” Keith roared, “What is wrong with you?”

“War and honor go hand in hand, kid.” Kitar sighed, taking a careful step forward, “But this isn’t why I brought you here. This little mix up essentially nixed that whole marriage/murder plot. So thanks, I guess. You and your Blue boy seem pretty well matched too, so I figured this wasn’t that big of an issue.”

“Not that big of an issue? You just said the whole situation was fishy!”

“It is!”

Keith snarled wordlessly, turning on his heel to stomp out the door behind him, intent on leaving Kitar and his meandering conversation behind.

“I wanted to tell you to be careful.” Kitar said suddenly, the change to his voice catching Keith’s attention.

“I’m already being careful.”

“Then maybe you should take a good look at what’s tattooed on your Blue boy’s back.” Kitar said cryptically, breezing past Keith to exit the room first, “You might need to be more careful than you think.”

Keith’s blood ran cold and he let the door slide closed in front of him, fear biting at the anger he’d built up in the conversation he had with Kitar.

What was tattooed on Lance’s back?

It would be Kitar’s symbol, right? The symbol of Kitar’s house? The tiger that had summoned them from the stars to settle the civil war on the planet and promised their help for this infiltration?

He’d avoided looking for that reason. He didn’t want to see the tiger tattooed in Lance’s skin and know that it was the fake claim from someone else.

But surely, Kitar had already seen both of their tattoos at the ceremony. Keith had a feeling they’d probably lurked about the whole thing under the premise of diplomacy.

Was the tattoo something else?

A hum of machinery caught his attention and he looked up blankly, finally making note of the room Kitar had dragged him into. It was another of those strange computer rooms, a wall of screens taking up a whole wall while towers chugged away with the soft hum that he would always associate with the Castle.

Almost on autopilot, he searched the room and planted the transmitter, a deep fear pulling at him. What had Kitar even meant by this warning? They were in enough danger as it was. If not for the cover of being Kitar and Leandro, he was sure they’d be in even more danger.

The Libanians surely wouldn’t waste time performing ceremonies on people they knew to be paladins of Voltron, right? They were smart people. They probably would have imprisoned them on sight. Handed them over to the Galra at the first opportunity.

Not bind them together over the course of the week.

The tattoo on his back took that moment to twinge a bit with remembered pain and Keith frowned. He hadn’t even checked to see what was engraved into his back. He’d been hesitant for the same reasons he didn’t want to look at Lance’s.

But if Kitar was right and things weren’t as they seemed…then they were in a bigger mess of trouble than he had expected.

He ran for the door, a well of panic starting to blossom in the core of his being. It swung open and he froze, ribbons and a placating smile greeting him on the other side.

“Warrior Kitar!” Taellia said tensely, her jaw clenched into that increasingly brittle smile, “Are you lost?”

Panic grounded his tongue for a moment and he nodded frantically. “La-Leandro and I were hungry after the ceremony this morning but we didn’t want to bother you. I was trying to find the kitchen. It smelled good on this side of the castle.”

“It is no bother to me, dear.” Taellia curtseyed, a sharp look to her wide eyes, “Why don’t you accompany me? I’ll show you where you can go so we don’t have this problem in the future, yes?”

“If it’s alright, I was just going to go back to the room?”

“Actually, I think you want to come with me.” Taellia said stiffly, one eye twitching with how hard she had clenched her jaw, “I think we have a lot to talk about.”

Keith swallowed roughly, thinking fondly back to where his bayard was hidden in the pockets of his outfit from yesterday before nodding quickly, his knife carefully wrapped up in the same pocket.

“Lead the way.”

~~~~

Walking the hallways of the palace was exceptionally creepy when he was by himself. The prickling feeling over his arms only seemed to get worse the further he walked and he rubbed his hands over them self-consciously.

It was probably the worst time to be replaying the scene with Keith but he couldn’t help but think about it.

Something had changed between them, something important. A drastic shift in the equilibrium of their interactions that had a part of him on edge.

If he wasn’t mistaken, it was almost like Keith was really, _truly_ looking at him for the first time. He felt bared under that intense gaze, like Keith was perusing the depths of his soul with every one of those stares.

Had…Had he figured something out?

Lance shook his head with a huff, dismissing the idea immediately. Keith wasn’t one to dance around something that was bothering him. If he’d found out how Lance felt, he’d confront him as soon as possible.

It’d be one way for this whole mess to come to a head. There was no way he wouldn’t just shut him down. He was with Allura and Lance knew that Keith was loyal. He wouldn’t just drop Allura for him, no matter how much the idea made a small dark part of Lance’s heart viciously happy.

He slowed to a stop, glancing down to his hands absently.

Would it be so bad? Letting Keith finally know?

He was never one to hide how he felt like this. He went after what he wanted. He’d always been prone to act first and think later in regards to his relationships.

The people he had been with before falling so deeply in love with Keith would attest to that. Most had ended amicably but he was always the first to jump in.

Lance had never waited like this, never been scared to charge forward.

Keith had even pointed out how many times he’d been rejected since coming to space and even if they weren’t true attempts, he always bounced back. So why was he so afraid of the rejection he knew was waiting for him?

Maybe it would be best to just do it fast? Rip it off like a band aid so he could finally move on from the boy he had been so pathetically pining for?

“You’re practically begging for someone to attack you right now.” A voice sneered from in front of him, the sudden interruption startling him into blinking owlishly.

“Yeah, just like that.” The man in front of him sighed, the dark tunic immediately catching Lance’s attention, “Mother beloved, I can’t believe you haven’t gotten killed off already. What an absentminded warrior.”

A frown settled deeply over Lance’s face and he furrowed his eyebrows at the Terrian in front of him. “Leandro.”

A wicked grin spread across Leandro’s face and he swept into an impertinent bow. “At your service.”

“What do you want?” Lance said flatly, eyes immediately darting to take in his surroundings.

Unbidden, his feet had taken him back to the courtyard where he and Keith had their first ceremony. The few hours since their vows seemed like an eternity and his nascent tattoo twinged between his shoulder blades.

Had it really only been a few hours since the ceremony that had practically ripped his heart out of his chest?

Leandro lounged on the empty stage in the center of the courtyard, an expression of amusement crossing his face.

All things considered, he was pretty attractive in a cold sort of way. His eyes were like ice, brown hair slicked back from his face. Lance was flattered to have been _mistaken_ for him. Kinda.

Actually, he was kind of freaking Lance out with the ice in his eyes.

There was having a cold gaze and then there was being _empty._

And Leandro’s eyes were empty.

They were the kind of eyes that had seen death a million times and felt _nothing._

“Well?” Lance hissed, planting his feet and crossing his arms over his chest, trying to stifle a growing panic in his chest.

“There are a lot of things I want, paladin.” Leandro sighed, “And very few I could get from you. If perhaps you’re wondering why I’ve stopped you, I must confess I have little idea. Perhaps I am merely insulted that such a poor warrior continues to impersonate me.”

Lance had to fight the urge to bristle at the insult, a corner of his mouth curling into a snarl. “If it upsets you so badly, why let it go on?”

“Because the idea of wedding Kitar makes me physically ill.” Leandro yawned, “And I prefer not to be implicated in my clan’s foolish ideas for reigniting the war Voltron was called to end. The entire concept bores me, this play at diplomacy bores me. If anything, your suffering over this situation is probably the most entertaining thing I’ve seen since I’ve gotten here. Tell me, does your Red Paladin even realize how pathetically gone for him you are? I’ve never seen a more hopeless case.”

“That’s funny. The people here were so convinced that you and Kitar are some romance case for the ages.” Lance drawled, “I’m sure he’s just as relieved to be freed from the idea of marrying you if this is how you really are. I was worried I wasn’t playing it up enough. And here I see that you have the emotional capacity of a saltine cracker. My bad. As for _my_ Red Paladin….I believe that’s none of your business.”

One perfectly arched brow lifted in amusement and Leandro sat up, his gaze appraising. “Hmm. More resilient that you appear. That’s good. Loathe to reveal information. Even better.”

Lance couldn’t help but stiffen as Leandro moved to circle him, those slitted eyes almost predatory. “Perhaps when this is all over, I can test you for certain. See if you are truly worthy to have wear your husband’s mark in the way of my people.” Leandro whispered, his voice carrying easily to Lance’s ears, “Because it is his. It is not Kitar’s tiger that adorns your pretty skin, Blue Paladin. Fire bleeds from your back, a warrior’s symbol indeed. It was an honor that neither of you earned. I could care less about the Red but you? You are wearing my name, pretending to fit easily within my skin. It makes me itch.”

“Then why not reveal us? Reclaim your name?”

“And betray the deal my people made with Voltron? Bring the wrath of your beast upon my head?” Leandro snorted, “I am a proud man, not a fool. I don’t need to reveal you when there was never anything hidden to begin with.”

Lance’s blood ran cold but he forced his features to remain impassive. This. This was what he was afraid of.

Had they been betrayed from the very beginning?

“Is this the thanks we get?” Lance began, “We bring your war to an end and you immediately sell us out?”

Leandro chuckled, dropping one hand heavily on Lance’s shoulder, their proximity making Lance’s skin crawl even worse than when he walked through the halls. “No. Despite their warmongering, my people still possess honor. Your disguises were real. At least the ones Kitar and I were told of. If there was truly betrayal, then you two aren’t the only ones in danger.”

“If this is your way of asking for help, it isn’t a very good one.” Lance returned, keeping Leandro carefully in his peripheral vision.

“Your flippancy isn’t helping either of us.”

“This _is_ you asking for help.”

“Forcing me to say the words is not going to endear you to me.”

“You insulting me and talking about my pathetic pining didn’t exactly make us best friends either, buddy.” Lance sighed, pulling away from Leandro to face him fully, “I had already figured that everything wasn’t quite right. I didn’t have any proof so I was going to keep quiet for the moment. But this turns everything up to eleven. We have plans here and the fact that your planet may have interfered is making this more of a mess than we could have anticipated.”

“A tactician.” Leandro hummed, “Perhaps I was hasty in my assessment.”

“Dude, enough with the attitude. You have my attention. Just keep an eye out.” Lance huffed, “I’ll talk to my partner. We might be able to contact the Castle and run some interference.”

After a moment of hesitation, Leandro nodded, taking a step back and partially turning to the courtyard entrance. “Many thanks to you, paladin.”

“Next time, just asking will make you more friends.” Lance couldn’t help but jibe, taking entirely too much pleasure in the way Leandro’s face curled into a scowl.

“Children. The paladins of Voltron are children.” The older man grumbled, turning fully.

A sudden tension immediately filled his shoulders and he jerked, a whistle of breath escaping him. The feeling of uneasiness increased tenfold and Lance patted his pocket, ice filling his spine as he found nothing.

Because his bayard was still wrapped up in the clothes he’d left on the bathroom floor the night before.

He’d been too distracted. Too caught up in his emotional distress. Too worried about Keith and his behavior.

And now he was alone.

Unarmed.

_With no way to warn Keith._

Leandro stumbled forward, legs giving out as he choked once, the whisper of his breath embedding itself in Lance’s brain. He collapsed forward into the grass, a turquoise stain spreading over the back of his tunic.

His assailant only took a single step backwards, the wide eyes of Libanis’ people staring at Lance with an expression so full of hatred that Lance could feel it prickle over his skin.

“An enemy of the state, ensconced so prettily within the castle.” The assailant hissed, “Chancellor Nazeer presumes too much. He truly believes that you will stay where you ought? How foolish.”

Lance willed his shaky limbs to move, panic and fear forming one hell of a chemical cocktail in his gut. Fight or flight warred in his brain, his breathing already elevated in anticipation.

But where would he go? How would he fight?

His only ally other than Keith was bleeding out on the grass in front of him. His teammates were safe on board the Castle, the princess even further away as she continued to negotiate with Terria.

And Keith.

God he hoped Keith was okay. Please let him have been his usual pragmatic self.

Let him be armed.

Let him be _safe._

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He tried, “I’m only here to marry my beloved. I don’t understand.”

“Don’t play dumb, Blue Paladin. No one in this palace believes such a ruse.”

Yet another fear confirmed.

“Then why keep us alive?”

“Because Lady Haggar has requested it.”

Lance’s breath threatened to freeze in his chest and he fought the tremble in his hands. This was now his worst case scenario.

He couldn’t afford to get caught up here. It was officially time to scrap this mission. He needed to call the others. They were in way over their heads, messed up in a way that had nothing to do with the ceremonies they were set to go through.

And his com was back in their room.

“So why not play along? Why not wait for Haggar?” Lance baited, hoping to draw out as much information as he could before making his move.

“The witch did not give a preference for your state of mortality.” The Libanian grinned, “And having you free to run amok is dangerous. You cannot be trusted to run about unfettered. You cannot even be trusted to breathe. It is as the Galra say. The only good Paladin is a dead Paladin.”

Pain lit up Lance’s back, a moment of sheer agony centering just above his left hip that left him breathless. A scream threatened to rip itself from his chest as the blade was removed and he staggered sideways, the second assailant grinning wickedly at him.

“And so easily the Guardian of Water falls.”

The pattern of intent marching made both assailants freeze and exchange looks of fear. “Guards. Quick.”

“What about the paladin? And the diplomat?”

“Leave them. Our job is done.”

Lance could do nothing but watch them flee, the world around him spinning as a sick feeling of thorns gripped at his insides. It was excruciating, the jarring pain of his knees meeting the grass only serving to hasten his descent into unconsciousness.

“ _For the Empire.”_

~~~~

The doors of the grand meeting chamber still bore the scars of the skirmish that had held Terria in thrall for so long. As Allura sat in the room, _alone_ , for the fourth time this evening, she couldn’t help but stare at the wounded door and worry.

Keith and Lance were alone in enemy territory with only a disguise supplied by a nascent ally, the others dependent on their mission coming to fruition.

Pidge had already reported that one transmitter had been planted, the single piece of machinery drastically increasing her capabilities in regards to infiltrating the well protected planet of Libanis.

It shouldn’t have ever come to this.

She worried about her team, especially the two who were placed in the most danger. She trusted Lance and Keith. Wholeheartedly.

They’d more than proved themselves up to this point. But she had a bad feeling, an impending feeling of doom that no amount of meditation and meetings could seem to ease.

Her musing was interrupted as the wounded doors swung inward, the Clan of the Tiger presenting in full diplomatic force, their sigil sewn proudly into the breast of their tunics.

It was their call that she had answered, their plea to the cosmos that had reached her ears.

They had been accommodating in regards to the mission to Libanis, almost overly so. Allura was grateful but things seemed strange.

Her father had often counseled her to listen to her feelings in unknown situations and she cursed herself for ignoring his advice.

“Greetings, Princess of Altea. Might we begin?”

Something was wrong.

And Allura feared that she had come to this conclusion far, far too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I await my torches with baited breath.  
> This thing has really just flipped me the bird and taken off on its own. Next update may take a hot minute due to holidays and the fact that I need to restructure my outline for this monstrosity.  
> Dammit.  
> Anyway, as always caps lock is truly the road to my cold dark heart and you are always welcome to come scream with/at me on Tumblr. I am faequeen40 on there too!  
> Until next time!


	3. Waiting on Some Beautiful Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth starts to become apparent and Keith is put in a difficult position

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun na na na na, dun ana na an DOUBLE UPDATE!!!!  
> So what was originally going to be Chapter 3 ended up being like fifty pages long so I'm gonna split it into two chapters for your reading pleasure. XD  
> Shit is about to go down, y'all.

Shiro let his back rest heavily against the wall of the hallway as the low hum of Hunk singing echoed in the control room.

Nothing about this mission felt right.

The Terrians had almost been too eager to offer their assistance and the landing of Keith and Lance on Libanis had gone wrong almost immediately.

Shiro wasn’t stupid. Even the best laid plans had an inevitable moment of failure.

But this?

Something had sabotaged them before they’d even begun. Someone with information about them, even just the surface level masks they showed each rescued populace, had sold them out to Libanis.

This whole thing stank of a trap.

And two of his team were stuck in the middle of it, distracted and distraught by their relationship and the complications within it.

It hadn’t been his most honorable decision but eavesdropping on Hunk and Lance only further worried him.

They were getting caught up, distracted and miserable after only a day trapped in this marriage farce.

Their circular almost courtship was going to get one of them hurt! And Shiro couldn’t stand the thought.

Keith had been his shy little brother for years and he would do whatever he could to look out for him.

Lance was less familiar but Shiro cared, dammit! As goofy as he could be, Lance was a valuable teammate and a good friend. A friend that Shiro considered himself lucky to have, especially on the rare occasion he found himself needing a good laugh or a sympathetic ear.

To hear his anguish over his supposed unrequited feelings and the completely off the wall assumption about Keith and Allura was difficult.

He wished they’d taken the out he had offered. More so now so he could lock them in a room to sort themselves out in the relative safety of the Castle.

A small smile graced his face and pushed off the wall as Hunk’s song drew to a close.

It had been a hilariously long time since he’d heard it and Hunk was…impressive, to say the least.

The almost silent patter of small feet caught his attention and Shiro looked up to see Pidge emerge from her own eavesdropping position, expression set into one of frustration.

“We tried to get him to tell us all this earlier.” She admitted, voice tight, “But he wouldn’t…Shiro, do you think something else is going on? My disguises for them were _airtight._ And now everything seems to be going wrong? It isn’t right.”

“I’m right there with you, Pidge.” Shiro nodded, taking a step towards the now quiet control room, “Have you had any luck with the transmitters? I don’t want to put more work on you but Lance did have a request regarding the symbols of Kitar and Leandro.”

“What kind of request?”

“He just wants to know which ones are associated with the two houses. He said he thinks he may have found the real ones and he wanted to be sure.” Shiro sighed.

“You don’t believe him.”

“Something is off.” Shiro hummed, “But enough of that, we can’t do anything about that for the moment. How are those transmitters?”

Pidge followed along, exchanging a knowing, frustrated look with Hunk as they entered.

“It looks like they already managed to get one of them planted.” Pidge recounted, taking a seat at Hunk’s side, the com wordlessly pressed into her expectant hand, “Lucky for us, the firewalls keeping the palace a closed system are way less robust than the ones surrounding the base. My decoder cracked them a few minutes ago. It’s easier for me to get at the shields now but it would still take me way too long. With just the one.”

“You said the shields around the palace are down now, right?” Shiro mused, “Keep an eye on those frequencies, maybe see if there’s any sort of surveillance. I don’t like this and more information is better than nothing.”

Pidge nodded, the action jerky and bird-like. “I was already setting my decoder on any security they had. I don’t trust any of this.”

“Gotta admit, though, Keith and Lance did work pretty fast.” Hunk hummed, tension still clear in the line of his shoulders, “They make a good infiltration team.”

“Never thought I’d ever agree with that idea in conjunction with Keith and Lance.” Shiro chuckled, some of the tense atmosphere abating.

They were all worried.

It was clear as Shiro looked at them. Pidge was the kind of sleep-deprived pale that came from working through the night, her shaky hands clasped tight in her lap.

It occurred to him that she probably felt responsible for the mess everything had turned into. She had set up the disguises, pulling delicately at the holes she had managed to put in the Libanian network.

And Hunk…Hunk just had to talk his best friend down from a panic attack with the promise of more heartbreak and danger to come.

It was never easy to being such a helpless position and the strain showed in Hunk’s taut posture.

“Are they going to be okay, Shiro?”

The weight of Hunk’s words threatened to make his shoulders buckle and he breathed deep.

Would they be okay? Alone and distracted in what was potentially a trap?

“I don’t know.”

~~~~

Keith stepped quickly after Taellia’s retreating back, his stomach twisting into anxious knots.

Had she figured them out? Was she about to turn him in?

Once again, he cursed himself for venturing out of the suite without any of his weapons. He’d been so caught up in his revelation about Lance and the subsequent flirting that the thought had never even crossed his mind.

Impulsive…and dumb.

It wasn’t the best way to describe himself but it was all he could think of. Shiro would be so disappointed in him and the thought of that cut deep.

They were deep in enemy territory and he’d let himself get distracted!

He thought he’d moved past this but as soon as he’s left alone with his crush (potential love of his life), he slips back.

Is it a mistake? To act on the feelings that he has for Lance? Look at everything it’s done to them so far!

They’ve been stepping anxiously around one another, distracted and miserable in their pining and forced proximity.

Yeah, acting on his feelings might alleviate some of that misery but…loving Lance was a distraction.

One that might get them hurt.

As he trodded behind Taellia, shoulders slumped, a chill ran down his spine, goose bumps prickling across his arms. The good smell faded as he followed, his stomach giving a grumble of complaint.

Being in the Castle had spoiled him. Even as generally bland and tasteless as the food goo was, it was _always_ available.

It’d been so long since his year in the desert that he had forgotten what it meant to be truly hungry. He’d lost the ability to treat it as a minor inconvenience. He’d grown too used to being able to eat whenever he felt like it.

He should be focusing on where Taellia was taking him instead of holding a miniature pity party for himself as he trailed behind her. And why did he have to follow after her? He could make a break for it. He could find Lance.

_And kiss him._

AND get out of here.

He shook his head violently, clenching his fists into tight balls. “Where are we going?” Keith demanded, impatience giving a bite to his voice.

“Somewhere that we can talk.” Taellia said stiffly, wide green eyes peering over her shoulder, ribbons fluttering almost as if they had a mind of their own, “For we have much to talk about.”

“What’s wrong with doing this where you found me?”

“So you want every surveillance room in the Palace to know your status as a Paladin of Voltron?” Taellia hummed offhandedly, continuing down the hallway even as Keith froze.

_Fuck._

She did know.

“How?” He choked, forcing his legs to move as he jogged to catch up with her brisk pace.

“If you’d give me a frelling minute, I’d be able to fill you in.” She hissed, that earlier composure melting away to reveal her frazzled countenance, “The walls have ears, you quiznack.”

A slightly hysterical laugh pulled itself from Keith’s chest and he followed her through the hall, nearly plowing into her when she stopped abruptly in front of a nondescript door. Her keys jangled loudly in the quiet, the sounds grating on Keith’s ears.

She ushered him inside and pulled the door shut behind him, a relieved sigh filling the small space.

It was crowded and cluttered, paperwork piled on the desk almost as high as Keith’s head. Books lined the walls and were stacked in haphazard towers around the floor and crowding them as Taellia picked her way through the mess.

“Where are we?”

“My office. I’ve spent a lot of time picking the bugs apart. We should be able to talk in here.” Taellia said with a hum, the permanent tension in her shoulders seeming to fall off.

It was strange to look at her and not think of her as the simple airheaded guide they’d encountered once they’d finally touched down. Something about her had shifted once they’d come in here, a core of steel making itself known as the disguise fell away.

“Who are you?” Keith said slowly, making his way to her desk to plant his hands on her cluttered desk, “Tell me how you knew we’re Paladins!”

“Well, if I didn’t already know you would have given yourself away.” Taellia said dryly, not even quailing under the force of Keith’s stare.

Keith huffed out a harsh breath, taking a step back and crossing his arms over his chest. “Fine. I’m in a bad position here. Why? Why bring me in here to talk?”

“You ask a lot of questions for someone who is basically trapped.” Taellia sighed, taking a seat in the only empty chair in the room, “I’ll do my best to answer them but we don’t have a lot of time before someone comes looking for me.”

“Guess you better get started then.”

“Sweet Trinity, you are even more irritating out of disguise.” Taellia groaned, ignoring Keith’s affronted look, “My name is Taellia and I am the operative stationed here by the Galactic Rebellion. I’m sure you haven’t heard a single thing about us seeing as you basically come in, blast the Galra to pieces, and leave the people greeting to your Princess.”

“There’s an organized rebellion?”

Of course he knew there was more than one. He’d met Matt.

He’d also promised to keep quiet about that very same rebellion.

“Yes.” Taellia groaned.

“We were under the impression that the Blade of Marmora was the only active rebellious sect right now.” Keith grumbled.

This was already getting off to a bad start. Not for the first time, Keith wished that Lance was here. He wasn’t the best when it came to negotiating or words in general. He could threaten information out of someone…

_When he had his damn knife!_

But Taellia didn’t seem to find anything about him intimidating and if she was telling the truth, he wasn’t sure he could blame her.

Anyone who tried and succeeded in keeping a rebellion going right under Zarkon’s nose had to be ballsy.

He could respect that.

“We’re content to let Zarkon believe that. The more attention we can avoid the better. Which is exactly why you’ve thrown a giant wrench in my plans!”

“Me?”

“Well, Voltron. But you and the Blue Paladin specifically.” Taellia amended, ribbons flipping in her agitation, “What were you thinking? Just waltzing in here? Now the entire palace is on high alert!”

Keith frowned deeply at her words, Kitar’s warning throwing up alarms at the back of his mind.

Kitar’s house had been the one to ask for their help but Leandro’s had been the one to offer their assistance for the disguises. If something were to happen to any Paladins that were disguised, it would make Leandro’s house look irreparably guilty.

And Allura’s temper was legendary. She would attack first, question later.

The Tiger would rule Terria, all without lifting a finger. Kitar and Leandro’s marriage plot was just another level of distraction.

They were all playing into their hands.

“We were supposed to be disguised.” Keith said slowly, realization pushing his eyes wide, “One of the Terrian houses put forth a fake delegation and we were part of it. We came into this expecting to be undercover….”

“We were forewarned of your arrival.” Taellia groaned, dragging her hand down her face, “You never had a cover to begin with.”

“They sold us out.” Keith snarled, desperately resisting the urge to tear his way out of the room to find Lance.

He had to stay calm. He had to keep his cool. Panicking now would only tip them all off and they’d drop the façade and come after him in earnest.

_Patience yields focus._

But what could he do?!

They were in danger here, a sword hovering above their throats, the thread fraying with every passing moment.

He needed to call Shiro. He needed to call Allura.

_He needed to find Lance._

“Things do make sense now.” Taellia huffed, hands pulling at her ribbons in frustration, “There’s no way even the Paladins of Voltron would be so foolish as to just walk through the front door.”

Keith resisted the urge to snarl at the backhanded compliment before freezing as he really, _finally_ looked at the tiny woman before him.

She…she could _help_ them.

As a guide she had access to the entire Palace. She could help him find Lance and get out of here before the whole mess came down on top of them.

Taellia met his panicked eyes with a heavy sigh, her worn gaze weary.

“I can’t help you. Blowing my cover here would jeopardize our entire operation on Libanis.” She said softly, each word making Keith want to snarl in frustrated rage.

Fine. He did this the diplomatic way.

“I could make it look like you were forced to help us.” Keith hissed, his hope fizzling out.

“With what army? Paladin, this palace is guarded and armed to the teeth. Any attempts to coerce my cooperation, real or feigned, would only end in disaster.”

The need to pace out his frustration welled up but there was barely room to stand in Taellia’s cluttered office.

Keith felt caged, mind racing as he tried to plan.

This wasn’t his forte!

Lance was better at this.

_Keith needed him._

Lance would be able to figure out a solution. He’d know where to push, where to cajole…

Where to cut a deal.

An idea flashed into his mind and he looked back to Taellia’s wary face, expression steeling itself into one of intense determination.

“What is your objective here?”

Wide green eyes blinked in surprise at the sudden question before she looked at him cautiously.

“Chancellor Nazeer.” She answered at last, “He represents a minority who are supportive of the Galra’s occupation. The Chancellor is a lifelong position of power and it’s my job to see it passed on to the next candidate.”

“So you’re supposed to kill him.” Keith deadpanned, giving a tired sigh.

“In a manner of speaking, yes.”

Keith opened his mouth to respond, the prelude to a deal on the very tip of his tongue, when a series of rapid fire knocks sounded through the thick frame and the door to the office abruptly opened.

“My lady Taellia, there’s been an incident.” A guard rushed, eyes going wide as he registered Keith’s presence, “Lord Kitar! There you are!”

“Pay him no mind, Varis.” Taellia said smoothly, her bubbly persona firmly back in place, “Kitar wanted to go over the details of the next few ceremonies so we don’t have a delay like we had this morning.”

Keith could only blink at her quick lie before inclining his head in a short, clipped nod.

The guard relaxed marginally before returning his eyes to Taellia. “Perhaps it is for the best that he is here after all. Leandro has been attacked.”

Ice flooded Keith’s veins, his heart threatening to stutter in his chest.

Lance…Lance had been _attacked?_

“Who did it?” He demanded, the words falling off his tongue before he could process the urge.

“We’re still investigating but we’re moving your husband to your suite.” Varis said quickly, not meeting Keith’s eyes.

So they did know.

They knew and the odds were nothing would be done about it. Because they all knew who “Leandro” really was.

And Libanis held no love for the Paladins of Voltron.

Before the panic settling in his bones could make him act out anymore, Taellia scurried around her desk and made to shoo Keith from the room, only the tension in her shoulders betraying her nerves.

Had she been expecting something like this? Was she in on it?

“Varis, darling, please escort Kitar to his suite. I’m sure you can tell that he’s quite anxious to return to his husband’s side. I will be right behind you.”

It didn’t take much more prompting than that.

Keith dogged Varis’ heels the whole way back to the suite, a sickly cocktail of fear, frustration, and panic brewing in his gut.

This was all his fault.

If he hadn’t overheard, if he hadn’t flustered Lance…

_If they’d never fallen for each other._

This would have never happened.

Lance wouldn’t be hurt because he needed to split up. They wouldn’t have worked themselves into a trap because they were distracted.

He wouldn’t need to push his feelings down and way just to function.

He wouldn’t be running down the hallway of an enemy palace, his heart in his throat, wondering and hoping against hope that he would find the boy he loved and not his corpse.

Keith pushed past Varis as soon as the suite door was in sight, his training allowing him to outstrip the poor guard in no time. He all but dove through the main door, vaulting the couch in the living room and drawing to a shuddering stop in the bedroom doorway, chest heaving.

The healer barely spared him a glance as she busied herself around Lance’s prone form, quietly chirping robots moving over Lance’s chalky skin.

This…this wasn’t right!

Lance should never be so still and quiet.

Lance was life itself, noise and emotion incarnate. It went against every fiber in Keith’s being to see him like this.

The boy he loved shouldn’t look so _lifeless_.

Unbidden, Keith’s vision swam and he staggered forward, choking down the sobs that threatened to pull themselves from his chest.

Was he too late?

“Is…Is he…?”

“No, little one.” The healer said brusquely, her voice scratchy and no nonsense, “Your mate may yet make it. The stab came viciously close to several major organs but missed. He is very lucky.”

Keith couldn’t help the watery snort that pulled itself from his chest. “Sounds like him.”

“Perhaps that luck will lift his chances against the toxin as well.”

Heart dropping like a stone, Keith moved the rest of the way into the bedroom, blinking away the bleariness in his eyes.

He needed to be able to see. There would be time for tears later.

Much later. Preferably when they made it back _home._

“Toxin?”

“Yes. The knife was coated in it. Nasty, volatile stuff.” The healer tsked, giving Keith a narrow eyed stare, a soft put-upon sigh pulling itself from her chest, “Well, come on. Up with him, carefully now. No sense in lurking around his bedside. The two of you are bound in body. It will do well for his healing to have you close.”

Keith hesitated for a moment before crawling onto the bed, shoes and all. He could almost hear Lance’s indignant squeaks of rage, the accusations of being a heathen for wearing shoes to bed.

It eased some of the terrible foreboding that gripped his heart.

As well as bringing him back to the last time they’d shared this bed. Of waking up wrapped in Lance’s warmth, his hands broad and soft against his back, the skin of his chest warm beneath his head.

Tears threatened to blur his vision again so he moved closer with care, pausing just a moment to toss his shoes to the side.

“That’s the way.” The healer clicked, “His color already looks better.”

“What poison was it?” Keith asked quietly, giving into the temptation to brush Lance’s bangs out of his face, heart lurching painfully in his chest.

As chalky as he looked, Lance’s skin was far from cold. Keith frowned at the way sweat clung to his temples, each breath labored and laced with the slightest hint of a wheeze. The healer passed him a damp cloth when he gave her a questioning look, letting him press the coolness into Lance’s fevered forehead.

Some of the tension left Lance’s brow and Keith could feel himself curling just a bit closer.

He wouldn’t leave Lance alone with these people.

Never again.

“The poison is known to the locals as Black Thorn. You can often track its progress by the black thorn like marks that appear on the victim’s skin. It is a slow death. It is why he was very lucky that his organs were missed. The necrotic passage is greatly slowed if it doesn’t hit anything major.” The healer explained, gesturing to the tendril of black vine like markings that circled Lance’s hip, the original wound cleaned and stitched neatly, “That is a fortunate fact for us. We have longer to administer the antidote before he succumbs. I’m only awaiting approval.”

Keith saw red for a moment, hands fisting in the covers around him.

“Approval? Who are we waiting on?!” Keith demanded, violet gaze narrowed at the healer in front of him, “You said this was killing him! Just help him already!”

“An admirable performance, Red Paladin. I almost believe your grief.” A voice called from the entrance of the bedroom, the voice making the nascent tattoo on Keith’s back burn with remembered pain, “She’s waiting on me, you see. The Blue Paladin has put me in a very difficult position. Do I let him die now or do I keep the bargain I struck with our very, _very powerful_ friends?”

Soft footsteps finally made Keith turn and he glared at the doorway, the officiant from this morning blocking the sun, long beard tucked neatly into his belt. Taellia stopped just behind the older man, her eyes wide and shocked.

“I take it that you are Chancellor Nazeer.” Keith hissed.

“You are well informed.” Nazeer hummed, “Not that I’m surprised. Especially not with the way your Green Paladin had so skillfully inserted herself into our database to plant the disguises for you. If we hadn’t been informed, we would never have suspected you.”

“My lord, I am still awaiting approval.” The healer interrupted, her stern face taut with strain, “My patient is in immense pain. Either choose to let him live or do not. I will not sit here and let him suffer, planetary enemy or not.”

“I would expect nothing less, Mira.” Nazeer laughed heartily, “Your vows are stringent in regards to life. Put him out of his misery. Haggar shall have to be content with one Paladin.”

“No!”

_Please._

_Not Lance._

The Chancellor’s eyes snapped to him, the dark grey depths narrowed into slits. “Who are you to question my decision? Why should I allow him to live? Why should I give him the antidote and allow him to heal?”

Keith didn’t have words, the overwhelming emotional turmoil of his mind making such a thing impossible.

He couldn’t bear the thought of letting Lance die here. Of going on, knowing that Lance wasn’t about to jump out from behind a corner to surprise hug him.

That Lance wouldn’t be _there._

There would be no more late night conversations, no more overly playful spars.

The light and vibrancy that Keith had come to expect from life when Lance was around would be gone.

And he’d already lost so much in his life.

Mother. Father. Childhood.

He wasn’t going to give up on Lance.

He wasn’t going to give up on the boy he loved.

It was a physical pain to look to the future and imagine a world where Lance wasn’t at his side, even as nothing more than a teammate.

He’d do whatever it took to keep him alive.

“My lord Chancellor.” Taellia said softly, her brief interruption pulling Keith back from the brink of his projected grief, “We have already put an extensive amount of resources into the preparation for the second ceremony. Between the time spent putting them into the Imperial system and all the money that was spent on the licenses and bureaucratic fees, it would be a significant waste to let it all go to nothing. In comparison to what has already been spent, the antidote would simply be a drop in the pond.”

“Truly?” The Chancellor hummed, “Why had you not informed me of this prior?”

“The paperwork was only completed a few hours ago. I had not the leisure to beg an audience, my lord.” Taellia murmured, “The Imperial census bureau was giving me trouble in terms of determining the species to which our couple belongs.”

“I see.” The Chancellor guffawed, “I will admit that they are not like anything I’ve seen to this point. But I will leave it up to them. Our intelligence had indicated that the two of you are in an antagonistic relationship. We had determined that the marriages would distract you sufficiently enough that you would be ignorant of our plans and to that end we were correct. If you so wish, I could end such a plot and let you die as the rivals you are. While your suffering is pleasing to me, I do not wish to sully my planet’s reputation.”

“Antagonistic?” Keith said hoarsely.

“Were we mistaken?”

“I…yes.” Keith admitted, “I love him.”

And sitting there in that room, the boy in question slowly dying at his side, Keith realized the truth of that statement.

It wasn’t just a crush.

_He loved Lance._

Loved him so much that he was willing to agree to whatever it would take to keep him alive.

The Chancellor gave a soft laugh before shaking his head. “Your species is indeed strange. Very well, Taellia, I will grant your request. They will have their ceremony. I will inform Lady Haggar that the timetable has moved forward. Mira, you have approval to administer the antidote. Monitor his health carefully. I wouldn’t want him to be unable to participate.”

A half sob of relief left Keith’s chest at the Chancellor’s parting words, the older man turning his back on the whole situation and padding to the door. “Are you not departing as well, Taellia?”

“I wish to go over the new situation in detail, my lord. The Paladins have no idea how this ceremony is to work and I do not wish for a delay like the one we had to sit through this morning. It is an embarrassment to my reputation as a guide and planner.”

“How do I know your intentions are true, Taellia Illias? Perhaps you are in cahoots with them as well.” The Chancellor said dangerously, looming over the small woman.

Keith slid to the bottom of the bed, gripping the bottom frame fiercely. He had to help her. Had to say something to get the Chancellor’s suspicion back to him.

If he believed her to be a traitor, he would never let the healer save Lance.

“You have nothing to worry about, my lord. If anything, I detest them for all the work I have had to do on their behalf. The mountain of paperwork in my office is more than an adequate deterrent for any type of goodwill.”

Well, shit. Ouch.

If Keith hadn’t just been in her office talking about killing the man in front of them, he might have actually believed her. No one spoke with that kind of venom in their voice unless they meant it.

“Prove it.”

Before Keith could blink, those ever present ribbons were shooting at him, the surprisingly strong fibers wrapping around his throat and squeezing mercilessly. He couldn’t even find an edge to pull at and he choked, vision going black around the edges.

“Oh my. Excellent.” The Chancellor guffawed, “With your size, I often forget about your other talents. You may release him. I’ll leave you to your work.”

The ribbons loosened abruptly and Keith took in a loud shuddering breath. His fingers clung to the foot board and he gasped, looking up to give Taellia a furious glare.

“I’ll remember this.” He swore, baring his teeth at her as the Chancellor looked on.

“Just as vicious as they say.” The Chancellor sighed, “Do be quick, Taellia, I’d hate for Voltron’s rabid right hand to try and act upon his threats.”

“Understood, my lord. It is not my wish to tarry very long either.”

Silence reigned for a moment as the Chancellor swept from the room, long ornate robes dragging the ground behind him. They waited until the door clicked completely closed before Taellia all but sprinted forward, bowing from the waist with her hands pressed together in front of her. “Sweet frelling Trinity, I am so sorry.”

“Language, darling.” Mira huffed, inputting a series of commands into the tiny robots that swarmed around her, “You took a risk, Tae.”

“I know, I know. Red Paladin, I am so sorry. I had to do something to make him believe my words.” Taellia rushed, lifting her head to look at Keith with wide watery green eyes.

For a moment, Keith was a loss for words, one hand still rubbing at the band of soreness that circled his throat. “I understand.”

“Now that we have that out of the way, you need to figure out what you’re going to do.” Mira said bluntly, her small robots moving out of the way as one deposited a syringe into her hand, “You managed to get a few days with Tae’s interference as well as save your mate’s life. Temporarily, of course. We have no idea what Haggar would plan to do with you but it would be easiest to cripple Voltron by killing a few Paladins.”

Keith gave the healer an incredulous look, his expression making her burst into scratchy laughter. “The Chancellor represents the _minority_ , kit. Most of the people here are not in favor of the Galra occupation. We’re biding our time. You being here simply means that we may not have to deal with the base for much longer. Voltron has become quite famous once more.”

“Mira is right, Red Paladin.”

“Keith.”

“Beg pardon?”

“My name. It’s Keith.” Keith sighed, sitting back beside Lance, dragging a hand over his face, “And you’re right. I need to figure it out.”

There was so much going on. So much that he didn’t understand.

They’d been betrayed but from where? Would such betrayal strike again if he tried to make a plan?

He wasn’t the plan guy!

The plan guy just happened to be comatose beside him.

So he needed to step up. He could do this.

Keith had survived worse. He would survive this. And he’d make sure that Lance made it through too.

“I need to contact my team.”

_“Way ahead of you, Red.”_

Keith jumped as Pidge’s voice echoed from the discarded pants on the floor, nearly falling off the bed in his haste to get to Lance’s discarded clothes. He dug through the pockets with fervor, an overwhelmed laugh pulling itself from his chest when he found the com.

He’d never been so happy to hear her voice in his life.

“How much did you hear?”

_“All of it. Shiro is pissed. He’s trying to get in touch with Allura now.”_

“Trying? Is something wrong with the communication there?”

_“They’ve been keeping her in meeting after meeting. He isn’t sure when they’ll free up enough for us to talk to her.”_ Pidge sighed, _“Keith, if everyone really is on high alert like they said, there’s no way we’re going to be able to get to you in time to stop anything._ ”

Keith bowed his head for a moment before breathing deep.

He’d expected as much but he wouldn’t want them down here anyway. Not with how dangerous it was.

_“I need that last transmitter to be able to do anything. If I had that, I’d be able to get into the entire network. Including the most coded parts of their security. I could at least help you escape so we can pick you up later.”_

“So Lance wasn’t able to get his planted.” Keith mused.

“Your, uh, ‘Lance’ was apparently ambushed while speaking to one of the Terrians.” Taellia interjected, “I believe it is the one of the diplomatic retinue. He is in far worse shape than the Blue Paladin. The knife made contact with most of his internal system.”

“Who do they think did it?”

“Loyalists, I believe. Those who support the Chancellor but were unaware of Haggar’s impending arrival.” Mira hummed, Taellia looking at her intently.

“ _Whatever you do, we need to be out of the palace before she gets here, Keith.”_

“I had gathered that much.”

“ _Your sarcasm is unappreciated it even if it means you’re not about to lose your shit.”_ A static sigh, “ _Keith, I’m sorry everything turned out like this. You’re going to get out of there.”_

Keith gave the com a grateful look before pressing it into his pocket, digging once again through the mess of dirty clothes on the floor. He pulled his bayard from the first day’s outfit, a deep snarl working itself out from his chest when his knife was nowhere to be found.

“They took my knife.”

“They weren’t going to leave an actual weapon in here.” Mira said drily, standing up from her chair beside the bed with a grumble, “The Chancellor will probably keep it on his person. A trophy of sorts.”

He’d get it back.

And he knew just how to do it.

“Taellia.”

The short woman jumped to attention, deceptive ribbons fluttering at her sides. “Yes?”

“I have a deal for you. For you and the rest of the Galactic Rebellion.” He said slowly, breathing through the emotions that threatened to choke him.

Anxiety for his plan.

Fear for Lance. Fear for his team.

Fury for those that had betrayed them, those that had sold them to the Galra.

“A deal?”

“I’ll take care of your objective for you.” He turned, meeting her intense gaze with his own, “In exchange for your help.”

“How are you supposed to do that?” Taellia huffed, “You just said he took your weapon.”

A grin pulled itself over Keith’s face, the red bayard held tightly in his hand, his sword blazing to life.

“Not all of them.”

~~~~

The hum of the materialized weapon filled the otherwise silent room and Taellia could do no more than stare.

With this weapon in hand, she could finally see past the veneer of overwhelmed human boy to the vicious soldier they’d all heard stories about.

This was more than she had expected when she had taken Matt’s advice and reached out.

Before her stood the Red Paladin, a fiery determination in his eyes. This was the man the Galra spoke of in hushed whispers.

A berserker.

A shadow to the Champion, fast and brutally powerful.

A soldier who had faced Zarkon himself…

_And walked away._

Matt had counseled her to believe in them, revealing that his younger sister was the crafty Green Paladin. It had been difficult to keep him on track after she’d learned that.

He was want to be a bit overzealous in his praise.

Looking at these boys now, hope swelled in her soul.

“You really wish to take on my objective for me?” She prodded, still a bit awed.

He would offer? So casually?

“If that’s what it’ll take for you to help us.” He swore, violet eyes dark, “My team and I came here to destroy that base and that’s exactly what I intend to do. But I need your help to get us out.”

Such tenacity in his words. There wasn’t any way she wouldn’t believe in them.

“How would you even get close to him?” She baited, inwardly kicking herself.

Despite her natural disposition to caution, she’d long ago made up her mind to help.

Matt’s words had lit the fuse but Keith’s very real panic and grief had sealed the deal. The Paladins were a force for change in this stagnant galaxy. Sure, their methods were more flashy and violent than she preferred, but they garnered results.

True results where there had been nothing but failure in the past.

Whole systems knew freedom and protection from Zarkon’s tyranny and all because of Voltron.

“Didn’t you give me the perfect opportunity?” He smirked, the expression just as irritating as the first time she’d seen it.

What was it with humans and irritating smirks?

“The only thing I’ve been able to give you is that…ceremony.” She breathed, eyes going wide in realization.

Nazeer would be unguarded at the binding of the minds. His position as Chancellor demanded that he be the officiant to such a high profile couple.

And with the way Keith could conceal his weapon…it would be the best way to eliminate him without implicating herself.

While it would work out perfectly in her favor, it sat heavily in her stomach.

“What kind of help could you expect from me?”

Keith frowned for a moment, his expressive face letting on more than his words ever could. He stepped to Mira’s side, his grief stricken face at the still form of his mate more than Taellia could stand.

Part of why she was so successful as a guide and a planner for Libanis was the deeply empathetic bond she shared with her clients and right now, Keith’s love and sadness for his mate threatened to tear her apart.

Something had changed between them. The miserable pining between the two of them had shifted, deeper understandings and currents coming to take its place.

For all that Nazeer had intended the ceremonies to be an insult, (a fact that still made her bristle with rage) perhaps something good had come from them.

Maybe when everything was said and done, they’d let her plan a real ceremony for them.

One put together with no artifice. Something to truly honor the devotion they were just discovering in regards to one another.

It would be _breathtaking._

At last, Keith moved, his empty hand reaching into the Blue Paladin’s pocket, a small silver device glinting as he turned to offer it to her, Mira’s sharp eyes observing the whole affair.

“I need you to plant this for me. It can be anywhere, provided there’s a connection to the network. With this, we’ll be able to destroy the base that’s taking up half the planet.”

“A bold claim.” Mira sighed, patting Keith on the shoulder, “One I would be proud to see come to fruition.”

The healer paced past, leaning in close to Taellia’s ear as she drew near. “Meet with me.”

A moment of tense anxiety tangled Taellia’s vocal cords and she nodded, keeping her gaze on Keith.

“Be sure to stay close to that mate of yours, boy. There is power in the bond you forged today.” Mira advised, “Skin to skin contact works the best.”

The human before her immediately turned a strange shade of red but Mira only cackled as she left the room.

Taellia sighed and held out a hesitant hand, masking the tremble of her fingers by curling them inward. “When is the latest I should have this placed by?”

“Tonight.”

“That isn’t a lot of time.” She said stiffly, her fingers continuing to curl as he pressed the transmitter into her palm.

“We don’t _have_ a lot of time. I don’t want to be in the same system as Haggar, let alone the same room.” Keith snapped, crossing his arms over his chest tightly, “Do we have a deal or not?”

“This is all you want to ask for?” She huffed, flicking her eyes to the tiny silver device.

“Are you offering more?” He grumbled, eyes narrowed, “You said you couldn’t help us earlier. Something about endangering your mission. I can understand that. The mission is important.”

His eyes turned back to the boy at his side, expression pained and sad. “I should have remembered that.”

Trinity save her from angst ridden humans. He was blaming the beautiful bloom of emotion between the two of them for this situation?

_It was ridiculous._

“Make the most of the time you have with him right now.” Taellia advised, “Once the ceremony gets underway there will be little time. You won’t be able to leave this room, Paladin. Perhaps it will give you time to plan and reflect.”

“I’m not much of a plan person.”

She had figured that much out. He was too straightforward and emotive for the tactical, roundabout thinking that a plan would require in this mess of a mission.

If the situation had been reversed and Taellia found herself staring down the piercing cerulean eyes of the Blue Paladin, she might have worried.

The Blue one saw more than he should and he’d see _right through her._

Her hesitance and fear regarding this entire operation. Her awe at how true the rumors were regarding the Paladins.

How young and inexperienced she truly was.

She thanked the three faced God of the skies that she dealt with Red rather than Blue.

The Galra would never stand a chance if they managed to become Purple.

“The perhaps reflection would do you some good. Too much eagerness may yet prove to hurt both of us.”

He gave a quiet hum at her words, the way his eyes shifted back to his healing husband more than serving as a dismissal.

“Be careful.” He murmured, “We’re counting on you.”

She fought against the smile that pulled at her lips and beat down the flutter in her chest at his faith.

“Mira was right by the way.” She tossed out airily, “Skin to skin will help. Libanis isn’t renowned for their ceremonies for nothing.”

The half-stifled choke made her smirk and she danced for the exit, feet light on the heavily cushioned floor of the suite.

Taellia braced herself at the doorway to the bedroom, a thought making her stop cold.

She’d never explained the next part.

“The second ceremony will take place in two days, “She said solemnly, “It’s a binding of minds and is typically the ceremony recognized by the Empire as legally binding. An Imperial magistrate will bore you to tears with the legalese and then Nazeer as our Chancellor will build the bridge between your minds. Given his intentions, it will not be pleasant. Be prepared.”

She padded away in silence, guilt and anxiety gnawing away at her insides.

There was more she could do. More she could give them.

Empathy warred with caution and she wanted to scream. This operation had been her life for the last five years! She had sacrificed everything, _everything_ , to get this close to Nazeer and one wrong step could send it all crumbling to ruin.

Libanis could mean so much to the Rebellion.

And yet, here she was considering blowing it all to help the Paladins that had gotten themselves betrayed and trapped.

She resisted the urge to smack her head off the suite’s main doors, her turbulent emotions more than enough to school her features into a convincing scowl.

What to do now?

The silver transmitter Keith had given her was a heavy weight in her fist, its responsibility and importance weighing it down far more than any kind of gravity.

It would be better to plant the Trinity forsaken thing first and wash her hands of it before she sought out Mira.

And wasn’t that going to be one frell of a conversation?  Of all the ways to reveal her part in a rebel organization to her lover, this hadn’t been one she’d anticipated.

But where to plant it?

Double planting in the rooms they’d already been caught in was likely a no go. Although, she had to give them props for their quick thinking in regards to their first plant.

Poor Varis would never been able to look them in the eyes after what he saw but clever nonetheless.

Very few terminals really connected to the network in the way the Green Paladin would find useful. IT had been a great stroke of luck that had allowed the Paladins to plant their transmitters so well.

Other than surveillance rooms, that left the planners’ personal modules and…the Chancellor’s.

Her own computer would have to be a complete last resort and she’d long ago burned her bridges with the other planners to get to where she was now.

That just left the Chancellor.

It would be risky and _utterly_ foolhardy.

But where else would be better? If Keith truly held up his end of the bargain, she’d need access to the Chancellor’s files in order to destroy him, and his party, in the public’s eye.

This would be the perfect chance to kill two raptors with a single blast.

Besides, he’d likely want her report on the paperwork she’d utilized to save the Blue Paladin’s life.

And what a _quiznacking mountain_ it was.

Mind made up, she hurried back towards her office, vaguely conscious of a pair of hard eyes on her back.

Her ribbons reacted before she did, latching onto her would-be assailant with preternatural strength.

“Beg pardon, sir. Might I ask why you were trying to grab me? Planners are here to help if you only ask!” She trilled, pinning the dark haired man with her patented wide eyed vacant stare.

“Mother above, twice in the same damn day.” He grumbled, wincing as her ribbons flexed, deep bruising evident around his nose and beneath his eyes, “I’m losing my touch.”

“I do not wish to repeat myself, sir.”

“I came to talk to you about those Paladin brats.” The man snapped, his dirtied clothes identical to the outfits that the Paladins had been wearing upon their arrival.

This man was Terrian…and as far as Taellia was concerned, suspect number one in the stabbing of the Blue Paladin. Despite what Mira believed, she couldn’t see the Loyalists acting so rashly.

“I think you’ve helped them enough.” She said dangerously, ribbons giving a warning squeeze.

“Please! Lady, hear me out!” He wheezed, “I’m not the one that sold them out. But I think I might know who did!”

“A likely story.”

“Look, just ask the Red kid. I was talking to him before you dragged him off.”

Taellia stepped back primly as the march of booted feet alerted her to the approach of a patrol.

“I don’t have time to dally with you right now. Meet me here after the moon has risen. You may plead your case then.”

“Fine.” The man grumbled, rubbing at his chest where her ribbons had pressed in, “I just want to help.”

“And we shall see after the moon rises, Mister…?”

“Kitar.”

She was sure the surprise showed through her careful mask as Kitar gave a bark of startled laughter.

“Maybe I should have opened with that.” Kitar said wryly, “As you can see, I’m definitely knee deep in this shit.”

“Indeed.” Taellia breathed.

Kitar was a real person? Not a fabrication on the part of the Chancellor?

Everything was growing even more complicated.

Her ribbons flicked the air in frustration and Kitar flinched before squaring his shoulders.

“I’ll meet you here.”

She watched his departure for only a moment before picking up the pace in the opposite direction.

The encounter with “Kitar” had cost her precious time and only served to confuse her further.

Mira would have to wait until she ironed out the problems before her. Besides, if she grew impatient enough, Mira would seek her out.

Their conversations tended to run shorter when that happened. Usually in favor of other activities…

The soft patter of her slippered feet made little noise as she hurried to her office, nodding only once to the guard stationed at the end of the hall as she passed.

She unlocked the door quickly, ducking inside and glaring at the stack of holofiles that sat on the far corner of her desk.

It had taken her hours and countless GAC to get the system to approve the union between the Red and Blue Paladins.

She’d completely created the entry for their species from scratch and managed a very complex and exceedingly frustrating workaround in regards to their kill/capture on sight lockout.

Thanks to her efforts, the ceremony in two days would be completely legal and binding in the eyes of the Galra Empire.

And she wasn’t proud of it.

She wasn’t proud of the part she had played in this whole farce of a situation.

It was a mockery of the beauty she’d crafted for other couples and she was disgusted.

A part of her prayed vehemently that everything would work out in the Paladins’ favor, if only so she could beg for the opportunity to finally do them justice.

The planning had been her one joy in the time it had taken her to get this close to Nazeer. She’d been something of a prodigy as a planner, particularly in her ability to read and bond her clients.

As she gathered the files into her arms, scowling at the enormity of the stack, she heaved a weary sigh.

What would she do after her objective was completed? Surely the Rebellion would have no reason for her to remain here. There were other worlds to aid, other leaders that needed to be pushed aside in their quest to free the universe from Zarkon’s tyranny.

The files in her arms felt all the heavier for the thought and she pushed herself to leave the room, her objective giving her the strength to move forward.

If this was the last time she’d ever plan, her heart would ache forever. A false triad of beloved ceremonies for a couple who were only now learning how deeply they cared for one another.

It almost brought tears to her eyes.

With a deep breath, she willed them away and squared her shoulders.

She had a bargain to keep.

~~~~

Keith barely heard the door close behind Taellia, embarrassment still burning at the tips of his ears. Her quick explanation of the ceremony they had to look forward to wasn’t even enough to quell the crimson that stained his face.

Skin to skin?

What did they expect him to do? Strip down and cuddle Lance?

As much as the thought made a part of him crow in delight, he couldn’t take advantage of Lance like that. He couldn’t just paw at him when he wasn’t awake to argue or let him know that he wasn’t pushing boundaries.

He couldn’t do that to Lance.

But his touch earlier had seemed to settle Lance, even a little bit. He could take care of Lance like that, monitor his fever and keep him comfortable.

Especially since he was pretty sure the two women had been fucking with him. Embarrassing him as a way to ease some of the tension perhaps. The only thing that had happened at the ceremony earlier was the tattoo that still stung between his shoulder blades.

Mind made up, he crawled back into the ridiculously comfortable bed beside Lance, sitting vigil at his still side. His hands itched to do something besides sit idly but the idea of leaving Lance threatened to choke him. He pulled the com from his pocket, turning it over between his fingers, the emotions from before crawling up his throat and stealing his voice.

“Shiro?”

“ _I’m here, Keith.”_

“What do I do?”

Silence reigned for a moment and Keith could hear a soft sigh through the com, Lance’s brow furrowing and a tiny whimper pulling itself from his throat.

_“I don’t think you can do more than you already have. It was a good idea to strike a deal with Taellia.”_

“Can we really depend on her?”

“ _You made the decision, Keith. And I choose to believe in you. Whatever happens from here on out, you did the best with the situation you were presented.”_

“I didn’t plan, Shiro! I just acted. I don’t _know_ what I’m doing.” Keith huffed, a shuddering breath pulling itself from his chest as he stroked his hand over Lance’s forehead once more, the tension releasing from Lance’s face, “I feel like I just keep messing up. It’s one thing after another. I don’t know what to do.”

_“That’s the scary part about being in charge of making decisions.”_ Shiro’s voice said solemnly, “ _You can never really know how everything is going to turn out. Plans go awry. People don’t react the way you thought they would. It’s all part of being a leader, Keith.”_

“I’m not a leader, Shiro. And I don’t want to be.” Keith mumbled, Lance’s burning skin beneath his hand making his eyes tear up.

_“No one really wants to be in the kind of situations we’ve been put into, Keith.”_

Keith only hummed in response, thumb idly stroking along the groomed edge of Lance’s eyebrow. “What if something happens to him?”

_“Nothing is going to happen to Lance, Keith. He’s got you there to look out for him.”_

“And look at how well that turned out.” Keith snapped bitterly, “Someone stabbed him, Shiro. He was alone because I let my feelings distract us from the mission. I overheard him and Hunk. And I let it go to my head.”

_“Keith, you can’t blame yourself for what happened to Lance. Judging by the situation, this kind of attack probably would have happened even if you were together.”_

“But we weren’t, Shiro! He was alone.” Keith choked, “Who knows what happened before they found him?! I couldn’t even save him when the Chancellor wanted to have him killed. I don’t deserve his feelings.”

“ _You shouldn’t make that decision for him.”_

“What?”

_“Whether or not you’re deserving of his love is Lance’s decision. One that he has stood by for a long time, judging by what I’ve heard.”_

”But Shiro…”

_“How would you feel if Lance said that he wasn’t deserving of your feelings?”_

Keith blinked for a moment, closing his mouth with a click. His eyes returned to Lance’s still face, the unceasing motion of his thumb making Lance’s features go slack. “I’d be angry. Angry that he couldn’t see the things that I saw in him.”

_“Exactly.”_

“But Shiro, these feelings we have for each other are just a distraction. Even if we make it out of this situation intact, there will be other situations. Other dangerous fights or people that will take advantage of how we feel about each other. Voltron has to be the more important thing here!” Keith argued, heart breaking with every word.

It was how it would have to be. Their lives were too dangerous to allow for such a distraction. Their obligation had to be to the team, to the mission they had accepted.

” _You deserve to be happy, Keith.”_

“Not if my happiness would jeopardize the Universe.”

Another weary sigh.

“ _Talk to Lance, first. This can’t be a decision you just make on your own.”_

The communicator fell silent with a soft hum and Keith angrily stuffed it back into his pocket and crawled from the bed, stomping his way into the bathroom.

After the day he’d had, he felt gross and overwhelmed. Dried blood crackled on his back from the tattoo at the binding ceremony and his body ached from holding himself in such a state of high alert for so long.

Not to mention he’d been so flustered by catching Lance in the bath last night that he’d rushed out without showering.

The memory pulled him up short as he stared at the giant bathtub he’d caught Lance lounging in the night before. It was almost too easy to imagine him in there once more, sleep soft face lolling against the edge, corded arms sprawled along the lip.

And then he’d just stood, careless and easy with his limbs and the way the water had run down his body had made Keith jealous, jealous in a way he’d never been of something utterly inanimate.

He hadn’t been able to help himself, eyes glued to the path of one particularly high droplet. He’d watched its path down Lance’s back, envious and burning as the droplet kissed the silvery scars that marked the explosion he’d endured to save Coran’s life.

It had rolled downward over slim hips and a taut ass, teasing as it finished by dancing its way down the mile long expanse of rich caramel colored skin that called itself Lance’s legs.

He’d immediately averted his eyes to the ceiling when Lance grabbed for a towel, face crimson and body on fire. God, how he’d wanted to just take a few steps forward and follow Lance into that bath, food in the living room be damned.

Fire raced over his skin just looking at the tub now and he turned away, shame cooling his ardor as he walked quickly for one of the shower stalls.

How could even think like that right now? Lance was fighting off poison in the other room, a stab wound neatly sewn up in his side and he was in here fantasizing about him?!

Angrily, Keith pulled off his tunic and pants, jumping into the nearest stall and letting the water pelt him at a temperature that threatened to freeze him to death.

It stung badly when it hit the new tattoo on his back, the water tinged pink as it pooled around his feet. Eventually the cold numbed it, his fingers feeling stiff and unresponsive as he stared at the far wall.

This was a mess. A terrible, awful clusterfuck of a mess.

Discovered, trapped and primed, _once again_ , to get married.

Only this time it was for real.

Or it was a second real ceremony.

The thought made Keith shake off some of the fog that was threatening to addle his mind and he flipped the water to something above the freezing mark, scrubbing himself off quickly and efficiently.

There was only one way to tell if the first ceremony had been real. The damning proof was carved into his back. Kitar had warned him, had hinted that perhaps something was different than what they had believed for the first ceremony.

They hadn’t been able to hear their own names, for fuck’s sake.

Once the last of the suds had gone down the drain, he turned the water off and snatched a towel, moving to the large mirror with single minded determination.

He wrapped the towel tightly around his waist and put one hand on the mirror, intent on wiping away the condensation enough to see just what was inked into the center of his back.

What would he do if it really was Lance’s symbol? What _could_ he do?

If nothing else, it would mean that it was truly Lance that he was linked to, that it was Lance he had married, Lance who had received those vows.

It would mean that in the eyes of Libanis, Lance was _his._ That they had a bond certified and performed by the highest power on this planet.

But what if it wasn’t the symbol of the Blue Paladin?

The indecision frustrated him and he huffed out an overwhelmed breath, swiping his hand over the mirror and turning his back to it. He immediately looked over his shoulder, heart swooping in his chest.

There it was.

A little red around the edges but the cerulean crest was unmistakable. It was Lance’s symbol that stood out from his pale skin, the color stark from where it sat between his shoulder blades. He reached around tentatively, fingertips skating over the bottom edge.

The sensation made him shiver and he couldn’t help the small smile that pulled itself over his face.

He really had _married_ Lance. Not a fake Kitar marrying a fake Leandro.

He’d married _Lance._ Lance was his husband.

It was a giddy, almost hysterical feeling that overtook him for a moment, overwhelmed tears coming to his eyes.

He’d married Lance.

There hadn’t been the buildup of a real relationship, they hadn’t had the time to really get to know each other as lovers. The devotion that was supposed to be inherent in this bond hadn’t really had its time to grow and mature.

And Keith hated, _hated with a fury that he barely recognized,_ Nazeer for taking that from them. Hated that he had stolen it from them as an _insult_.

All because he thought they were bitter rivals. Rivals who would chafe and rage at being forced to marry one another.

At the beginning of their journey, Keith may have believed it. May have even gone along with such a belief but not now.

Not after coming to love Lance the way he had. Not after coming to see what a good and compassionate person the Blue Paladin was under the veneer of showboating and grandiose statements.

Of course, they couldn’t really afford the distraction being together would cause. And regardless of what Shiro said, Keith _knew_ that it wasn’t something that Voltron could afford.

He wouldn’t put his happiness above the mission. He couldn’t do that. Especially not when the universe was counting on them. How could he when he’d yelled at the others for doing things like that?

When he’d snarled at Pidge for wanting to leave and find her family. Even when he knew that it was what she desperately wanted.

How could he be so hypocritical?

A sharp cry broke his spiraling reverie and he sprinted from the bathroom into the bedroom, one hand clutching the towel to keep it on his hips.

In the bed, Lance thrashed, mumbled pleas in a foreign language falling from his tongue in between whimpers and sharp cries of pain. His skin was flushed with heat, sweat matting the curls at his temples and the black vines pulsing around his stitched wound.

Keith cursed violently and jumped forward, trying to hold Lance’s flailing limbs down, anything to keep him from hurting himself further.

_“Por favor, Mama.”_ Lance whimpered, eyes glassy and unfocused as they slitted open, “ _Lo siento.”_

A pang went through Keith’s chest as the words registered, his rudimentary Spanish from his time in the Texas foster care system more than enough to understand.

How much pain was Lance in to be calling for his mother like this?

Was it because Keith had left him? Was there some actual truth to what the healer had said?

”Keith.” Lance whined, tears gathering in those unfocused eyes, the single plaintive word enough to bring Keith to his knees at the side of the bed, hands faltering on Lance’s chest.

Why would Lance be calling for him? Didn’t he realize all of this was Keith’s fault?

“ _Lo siento.”_

No. Don’t apologize.

It couldn’t be Lance’s fault. This whole thing happened because Keith was too scared to take a step forward, too giddy with the idea that Lance might actually want to be _his_.

“ _Lo siento, cariño.”_

Lance, no. Tears pricked at Keith’s eyes and he scrambled to his feet, heart pounding in his chest. He knew that one too.

A pet name. A term of endearment.

Lance had called him his “sweetheart”.

They couldn’t do this. He _couldn’t_ have this.

The thrashing seemed to calm as Keith kept his hands on Lance’s arms but he was still making pained sounds, the tears gathering in his glazed eyes running down the sides of his face and neck to pool in the divots of his collarbones.

It was too much for Keith to bear.

“Lance.” He whispered, wiping away the trails with a gentle hand, “I’m here.”

A deep shuddering breath of relief pulled itself from Lance’s heaving chest, a tired smile curling the edges of his lips, lips that had caught Keith’s attention millions of times before.

“ _Te amo.”_

The soft whisper crashed through the last vestiges of Keith’s willpower like a bull in a china shop and he half choked on a sob, leaving Lance for only a moment to crawl on the bed at his side, giving into the temptation to curl his body close.

He couldn’t stay away, couldn’t leave Lance dangling when he was hurting.

“I love you too.” He sniffed, “And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

They couldn’t do this. Couldn’t have this.

But he was _weak._

_Weak and tired of fighting how he felt._

Keith gave in.

He whispered apologies into Lance’s chest until the thrashing stilled and Lance’s breathing returned to normal, the exhaustion of the day finally carrying the two them off into dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :3c  
> I did warn you.


	4. The Devil's Water, It Ain't So Sweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bargain is kept and the boys find themselves in a rapidly escalating situation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two of the DOUBLE UPDATE!!!  
> This is the second part of what was originally Chapter 3!  
> Enjoy!

Pidge pushed away from her console with a muffled swear, rubbing at her eyes and breathing through her nose. She couldn’t listen to another minute of Keith apologizing, couldn’t listen to Lance whimper and groan as the antidote used his body as the battlefield for the poison threatening to kill him.

She muted their coms for a moment, meeting Hunk’s misty eyes with her own. Normally she didn’t mind listening in, especially when the others were in trouble but this…

This was too intimate. Too much for her to listen to. If Hunk’s guilty expression was anything to go on, he felt the same way.

“Hunk.”

The Yellow Paladin nodded sadly, his head dipping down to rest in his palms. “I have never wanted to hit someone as badly as I want to hit that Nazeer dude.”

“Hit him? I want to run him over with my Lion. And then jump.” Pidge swore viciously, rubbing at her eyes once more.

Anxious for something to do, she switched back to the outside frequencies, hoping against hope that Coran had finally been able to get to Allura to deliver the message Shiro had given him.

“That actually does sound way more satisfying than hitting him.” Hunk grumbled, “Yellow would probably have fun with that. She loves break checking when we get tailgated.”

“I have never understood why your Lion is so excited about that concept.”

“Yellow is a quirky girl. I’m not gonna question it.”

The screen blinked at her unhelpfully, a blank entry where the communicator’s signature once sat.

“Uh, Hunk? Coran didn’t turn off his com, did he?” Pidge asked, narrowing her eyes at the oddity before her.

“No?” Hunk blinked, “Why would he do that? He knows we’re trying to get ahold of him.”

“Then why is his com signature gone?” Pidge hissed, fingers flying over the keyboard to try and figure out where the signal had disappeared to.

“That…is an excellent question.” Hunk rushed, jumping up from his own chair to peer at her screen, “Oh, that’s not good. It’s like it was never there in the first place.”

“Terria doesn’t have the tech to block us like that.” Pidge snarled, “So what happened to Coran’s com?”

Heavy footsteps echoed at the control room’s doorway and Pidge looked up, meeting the determined set of Shiro’s eyes. “What’s going on?”

“Something’s happened to the com we sent with Shiro and Allura.” Hunk summarized, face serious.

“Define something.” Shiro ordered, coming to join Hunk behind Pidge’s chair.

It didn’t make sense. A com signature didn’t simply disappear like that. Especially one as intrinsically linked to the Castle systems as the ones the Alteans had taken with them.

“The signature has completely disappeared from our system. We can’t even track a signal because there is no signal to track.” Pidge explained, “There’s no way to reach them.”

“Shiro, what do we do?”

Pidge watched as Shiro stepped back for a moment, a harsh breath escaping between his teeth before he buckled down, dark eyes alight as he put together a plan.

They could count on him. Even if their team was fragmented, Shiro would be able to keep them safe.

“We need to go after them.”

“What about Lance and Keith?” Hunk demanded, “We can’t leave them. I know we can’t even get down there but we can’t just leave them without any backup at all.”

“I know that.” Shiro barked, “That’s why you and I will make our way to Terria while Pidge stays behind. We’re still waiting on that last transmitter, right? One of us has to stay behind.”

“It makes sense.” Pidge offered hesitantly, seeing the argument brewing behind Hunk’s teeth, “You could back Shiro up if you run into trouble.”

“What if you run into trouble?” Hunk huffed, “The Galra are on their way to this system and the Castle isn’t exactly easy to miss. What if they attack while we’re out?”

“Then you’ll have to move fast, won’t you?” Pidge snapped, “We don’t have the luxury of waiting around. Whatever is going down on Terria could mean serious business and we only have a few days before Lance and Keith are going to try to make their escape. We have to use the time we have now to make sure we don’t have any surprises when that time comes.”

“Two days should be more than enough time to settle everything on Terria.” Shiro swore, the set to his face promising violence, “We won’t leave Keith and Lance to try and figure it all out on their own.”

Hunk heaved a heavy sigh, his shoulders dropping. “Fine. But I have a bad feeling about all of this.”

“We’ll be careful, Hunk. I wouldn’t disregard your caution. Not when it’s been right in the past.” Shiro vowed, “Come on. The sooner we get prepared and get going the better.”

Nodding, Hunk straightened into a salute, making his way out of the control room, a determined set to his shoulders.

“Keep every single channel open that the Castle can handle. Private channels, the channels to the Lions, all of it.” Shiro said carefully, “I want frequent check ins and I want to know the moment you know anything. Especially if you catch any stray Galra frequencies.”

“You really think the Galra are going to show so early?”

“It’s Haggar.” Shiro shuddered, “She is likely to show up when we least expect her.”

“No offense, Shiro. But I hope you’re wrong.”

“Me too, Pidge. Me too.”

~~~~

The walk to the Chancellor’s office had never felt so long before in her life. She juggled the files in her arms clumsily, ribbons trailing along the ground behind her, their lack of motion indicative of the darker tone that her thoughts had taken.

The guards along her path only looked at her with pity. They knew the assignment she’d been given. They thought they understood the difficulty of it all.

That the Paladins were nothing but vicious brutes. That crafting ceremonies for such people would have gone against the astronomically high standard she typically held herself to.

How wrong they were.

How completely _wrong_ they were.

The anger she felt straightened her shoulders, ribbons returning to their usual flip and flutter, a few giving glancing smacks to the guards she passed, the resulting flinches making her fight off a smirk.

She’d be _honored_ to plan for them.

But for now, she was going to hold up her end of the bargain.

The approach to the Chancellor’s quarters was the most guarded hallway in the entire Palace, the floor decorated with plush carpet and the walls draped with expensive, delicate silks. It was a show of power and importance, all built on the subjugation the common Libanians suffered at the hands of the Galra.

The common people suffered in Zarkon’s factories, creating new technology and weapons to enable him to continue his conquest of the universe. They starved and cried, convinced that freedom was a mythological concept, only spoken of in stories.

Only those in the Palace lived well, benefiting off the hidden cost of siding with the Galra. The Chancellor lived like a King, dressed finely and well fed.

All while the blood of his own people stained his hands.

The hallway melted away beneath her feet and Taellia shifted her burden to one arm, ribbons coming up to stabilize it as she knocked primly. Silence greeted her in the interim and she resisted the urge to knock again, gritting her teeth as she waited.

Even the guards behind her began to look nervous as she continued to stand at the door, hands holding her hefty stack as if it weighed very little.

One could show no weakness to the Chancellor. No fatigue. Nothing beyond unceasing loyalty and a need to impress.

Anything else bred caution. Caution would lead to suspicion and suspicion would destroy everything that she had worked for so valiantly.

Suspicion would get the Paladins killed before Keith would ever have the opportunity to keep his promise to her.

Suspicion would end her.

“You may enter.”

The doors opened soundlessly and the guards gave nearly silent expressions of relief.

They must be new. The Chancellor had made her wait upwards of an hour before.

She stepped inside the grandiose foyer, feet nearly silent on the carpeted floor. A servant guided her through the quarters to where the Chancellor reclined on an outside balcony, his ever present terminal sitting beside him, almost as innocuous as the maid that was sitting in his lap.

“Your patience is, as ever, one of your greatest virtues, Taellia.” Nazeer hummed, disgusting hands sitting primly on the maid’s hips, “I’ve been expecting you.”

“I apologize for the delay, my lord.” Taellia grinned, forcing down her revulsion at being so close to this man, “Seeing as the couple you had assigned me to have a capture or kill on sight lockout, it was quite a production to get their license approved.”

“You’re the best, my dear.” He simpered, “I couldn’t just hand such a difficult case over to anyone else.”

“Your praise makes the toil worth it, my lord.” She bowed, making a show of sweeping her ribbons to the side.

The longest of the trio gently took the silver transmitter from her palm at contact and she took her time returning to her upright position, almost as if the weight of her files was too much for her.

“That does look like a rather large pile of paperwork.” Nazeer sneered, “You weren’t exaggerating when you referred to it as a mountain.”

“You would know as well as any other planner how much paperwork goes into the creation of a species page in the census bureau’s database.”

“Truly you went above and beyond for such a farcical ceremony.” Nazeer laughed, his very real joy only fanning the flames of her joy.

He enjoyed doing this to her. He was a monster who thrived on the pain and suffering of others. It didn’t matter to him that performing these ceremonies was in vain or spat upon the proud traditions of their race.

Nazeer only wanted to hurt the Paladins.

And by the way she had left the boys back in their room, he had succeeded.

There was so much that she wanted to demand answers for. Had he meant the Terrian delegation when he referred to the “real” Kitar and Leandro only a day before? She had doubled the security on the Paladins when he requested but after her encounter in the hall, had she been misinformed?

“I only wish to prove myself to you, my lord. Even a farcical ceremony is an opportunity.” Taellia said shyly, grabbing one ribbon to busy her hands so that she didn’t rip his throat out.

“Ever as diligent a worker as your mother.” Nazeer sighed heavily, “It’s a shame my sister couldn’t be here to see you now. No one could ever accuse me of nepotism with the skill you display.”

“Mother would be proud, I am sure.” Taellia hummed, the false cheer filling her mouth with bile, “And ever seeking to one up me.”

“She was a competitive one.”

He would know.

He’d had her killed for it.

She took a shy step forward, letting her ribbons trail behind her, their ends dragging close to the terminal. “Do you wish to go over the paperwork, as before? Since they are such a high profile couple, even for planetary enemies, I am sure you would wish the honor of performing their ceremony.”

“I had every intention of being the one to dig in their primitive brains. Whether they survive the bridge will be up to them.” Nazeer smirked, “There are plenty of things to bridge within the mind. Many, many things beyond the emotion and thought that we typically bridge.”

“Many things?”

“Nightmares. Fears. Pain.” Nazeer laughed darkly, “The brain is multifaceted. It is just as easy to build a bridge on the darkness within a mind as it is to build it on the love between two individuals.”

“That is very creative of you, my lord.” Taellia said faintly, another small step moving her just barely closer to the terminal that sat beside his lounge.

“I thought you would appreciate such roundabout thinking, my dear.” Nazeer smiled, “But please, give your report. As farcical as the ceremony is, I don’t wish to be caught off guard in regards to the magistrate’s words.”

Taellia took a final step forward and placed her pile at her feet, effectively blocking the sight of her ribbons as she cracked open the first holofile.

“The Red and Blue Paladins hail from a race known as humans. Their species origin points are unknown but they are far from the first of this species to interact with the Galra Empire. It seems the Champion himself belongs to this race.”

Trying to control her ribbons was always a difficult process but trying to split her attention had to be the worst part. The ribbon holding the transmitter was clumsy, smacking at the back of her ankles as it tried to follow the commands she gave.

“Their race is not particularly long lived but very little evidence exists in regards to how long. The oldest example the Empire has on record is that of a human male in his late 40s. Already he showed signs of joint and muscle degradation so we can only assume that this race lives to be in their seventies at the very oldest.”

“Such a blink in the expanse of the universe.” Nazeer chuckled, squeezing the hips of the maid in his lap, the poor girl squeaking a bit at the unexpected move.

“Indeed.” Taellia rushed, doing her best to keep Nazeer’s attention focused on her, “It also seems that the males of this race do not have any bearing capabilities so the union between the two Paladins will not produce children.”

“I’m sure the Census Bureau was pleased with that.”

Taellia nodded her head quickly, the ribbon drawing even closer to the terminal. “It proved to be the difference in obtaining the marriage license for the two of them. The Empire didn’t have to worry about the title of Paladin becoming a hereditary one. They issued the license not long after that. It is a fully binding marriage issuance, entitling the Paladins to all rights and privileges given to married couples under Empire law. Both until death and beyond it.”

So close. So very, very close.

Taellia’s eyes caught that of the maid’s and her heart leapt into her throat. The maid was looking right at her ribbons.

Nazeer caught her gaze and smiled viciously. “No need to worry about those, pet. Dear Taellia was born special.”

The maid opened her mouth to speak but Taellia sharpened her gaze, glaring at the smaller woman. She didn’t come this far only to be sold out.

There would be no end of fury if the maid gave her away.

“They are quiet beautiful. They must come in handy.” The maid said meekly, ducking her head away from Taellia’s glare.

“Indeed. It is why I can take on such dangerous assignments.” Taellia nodded, the ribbon holding the transmitter brushing past the terminal.

Quiznack.

Missed.

“I hope that brute kept to himself after my departure.” Nazeer murmured, grey eyes narrowed, “I’d hate for all your hard work to go to waste.”

“It was no problem, my lord. Mira stayed by my side as well.” Taellia cajoled, holding her hands in front of her carefully.

Alright. Trying again.

“Those healers have their uses.” Nazeer snorted, “A shame they hold to their vows so fervently. They’d make an impressive force for assassination.”

Her ribbons flicked in irritation, the transmitter missing once more.

How dare he? How could he even think to use the gentle healers of their race to kill? Their vows were stringent for a reason. They knew the force they could wield and chose to turn it into one for healing.

Her lover would never be a killer like Nazeer wanted. Not if she had anything to say about it.

“Don’t you agree, my dear?”

Even considering the notion made her physically ill. There was no way she could agree with him on such a point. “I believe our healers do so much good for our own people. They simply don’t have the numbers to be used as a fighting force.”

Nazeer hummed in consideration and Taellia took the opportunity to concentrate, the ribbon finally planting the transmitter in a port at the bottom of the terminal, hopefully far, _far_ too low for Nazeer to deign to reach.

“The rest of the report is the legalese the magistrate will likely go over once more in the actual ceremony itself.” Taellia said quietly, Nazeer grimacing at her words.

“I have no need of that. I’d hate to go through all of it only to have it spat back verbatim by that odious magistrate.” Nazeer huffed, “You are dismissed. Your work was most impressive even if ultimately it was all in vain. Enjoy your leisure.”

“Thank you for your kindness, my lord.” Taellia bowed, leaving the pile at her feet as she turned to leave, ribbons continuing to trail behind her.

“A moment, dear. Judging by those lovely ribbons of yours, you’re still agitated.” Nazeer observed, “Care to let your dear uncle assuage any fears you might have?”

“It is nothing, my lord. A few residual nerves from dealing with the Paladins.” Taellia lied, “I am not typically a person for such bald confrontation. I will admit that my actions earlier may have shaken me.”

“What a gentle soul you are.” Nazeer sighed, “If that is all, I’m sure you’ll come to discard that part of yourself in due time. There is no room for gentle souls in the Galra Empire.”

“I will keep such advice close to my heart.”

She ducked out of the room before she could say more, turning on her heel as soon as Nazeer was out of her sight, the taste of bile coating her tongue.

Without the weight of her files, she all but flew down the halls of the palace, pale moonlight illuminating her silhouette as she returned to the spot where she’d encountered Kitar.

He stood lazily beside a pillar, an even more familiar figure standing beside him. Her footsteps stuttered to a halt in front of Kitar and Mira, heart in her throat.

“I suppose I’m going to have several more uncomfortable conversations today.” Taellia winced, the thin line of Mira’s lips telling her more that Mira’s words ever could.

“Darling, this may be the most uncomfortable conversation you’ve _ever_ had. And I was there for the ceremony between the tentacle beasts.” Mira said slowly, her voice caustic.

“I’d duck out of this little lover’s spat, but I’ve already heard certain details from your lovely lady here.” Kitar drawled, “And honestly, I want in. Much of the problem these boys are having is probably my clan’s fault. I’m not about to stand here and let that go unanswered.”

Taellia heaved a frustrated breath and threw up her hands. “Fine. We’ll do this. We’ll go to the spot.”

Mira looked her over with a calculating eye and sighed. “Tomorrow.”

“What?”

“You’re in no condition to have this confrontation right now.” She explained, “Rest. Prepare yourself. And be ready. I have questions, Tae. You will answer them.”

Kitar looked between two of them in confusion, his dark brows furrowing. “Do you mean me too?”

“Yes, Terrian.” Mira said dryly, “My lover is in no shape to deal with your planning and apologies. Prepare your strategy. We’ll meet tomorrow to discuss where things will go from here. Besides, isn’t there a patient _you_ should be attending to?”

“Leandro was doing perfectly fine when I left.”

“The Black Thorn is incredibly painful, even after administration of the antidote. It can result in increased fever, thrashing, and even lifelike hallucinations.” Mira hissed, “You assured me of his care. Am I to assume that you are incapable?”

Taellia didn’t pity him one bit but she definitely understood what it meant to be pierced under Mira’s glare.

If looks could kill, Mira would break her vows daily.

“Tomorrow, then.” Taellia interjected, rescuing Mira’s newest victim.

“I’ll tell you everything.”

~~~~

Lance drifted in a dreamless void after the events of his talk with Leandro.

At first, it was filled with pain, black thorns ripping through his insides with an intensity that pulled him back from true consciousness. It was agony. His body burned and he railed inside the prison of his head.

He just wanted it all to stop.

Relief came soon after in the form of rough fingers brushing across his forehead, coolness coming to replace the heat that pounded behind his eyes. The thorns seemed to recede too, the pain dulled but no less present.

With the rough fingers on his face, he felt safe. A safe that he hadn’t felt since he’d left his family home to enroll at the Garrison.

The tattoo on his back tingled slightly with every brush of those hands, his heart giving a painful lurch.

When the touch fell away, that familiar presence moving from his side, the pain returned with a vengeance, pulling him into a strange consciousness.

An in-between world where nothing seemed real.

He saw his _Mama_ and he wanted nothing more than to beg for her forgiveness. He’d never meant to leave Earth behind. He’d never meant to get caught up in an intergalactic war so many light years from home.

He was _so sorry._

Lance saw Keith too, face screwed up in worry before morphing into remembered disgust.

He was sorry for this whole situation. For not being stronger. For not being true to himself and letting Keith know how he felt.

Was this death? Was he seeing his regrets before he passed on?

The good touch returned but the pain was not so easily repressed and it swelled up in his chest, wave after wave of burning pain that pooled tears in his eyes.

The love of his life. Oh, _dios,_ he was so sorry. Sorry for not being enough. Sorry for wishing to interrupt what was likely a solid relationship because of his own wants.

If this was it, he wanted to go with no regrets.

“ _Te amo.”_

If anything, the good touch seemed to grow stronger with his admission, a cool, wet head resting on his chest.

The temperature cooled the waves and he could breathe again, exhaustion pulling him back into the dreamless void.

The pattern continued, cyclic and unending for what felt like eternity. The pain would swell and the rough fingers would brush at his forehead, playing gently with his hair. If he began to thrash, a heavy head would rest on his chest, words whispered into his skin until he calmed enough to sleep once more.

The heat would rise and fall, other indistinct voices coming and going as he slumbered on.

After what felt like years of the cycle of pain and relief, the heat broke and he could breathe without feeling fire licking at the bottom of his lungs. His eyes cracked open to the flutter and flounce of a downy white canopy, curtains fluttering in the breeze from an open window.

Early morning sun trickled in through the window and Lance peered at it blearily, something about the gentle light that put him even more at ease.

The tickle of dark hair caught his attention and he looked down to see nearly black locks tangled over the expanse of his chest, their owner practically buried in the space between his torso and his arm, nose digging uncomfortably into his ribs.

It took him a moment to place why this porcelain skinned angel looked so familiar and he could almost cry.

He’d died. Died and gone straight to hell.

That was the only think he could think of to explain how he’d woken up with Keith curled around him so carelessly. He was to be forever saddled with his greatest temptation in life and honestly, he’d like to give the Devil a handshake.

It wasn’t exactly the worst torture he could imagine for all eternity.

He let his hand rub softly over the curve of Not-Keith’s pale shoulder, the other boy stirring with a soft groan, the loose pants on his hips tangled around the curve of his legs.

It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

The raven haired boy pulled his head out from where he’d been attempting to tunnel through Lance’s ribs with his nose, perfect violet eyes bleary and his disaster of a haircut even more of a wild mess. He was soft with sleep and Lance couldn’t help but smile at how gorgeous he was.

“Hey, baby, are you lost?”

“Huh?”

“Because I think heaven is missing an angel.”

Not-Keith blinked at him for a moment before those lovely violet eyes went wide, tears giving them a heartbreaking sheen.

He dove forward, pressing their lips together desperately, familiar rough fingers coming to twist in Lance’s curls. It only took a moment of hesitation for Lance to respond in kind.

When Not-Keith finally pulled back, tears spilling over, Lance gave a hum of loss, not ready for the warm press of lips to leave him yet.

“It broke. Your fever finally broke.” He choked, “You’re actually awake.”

“Fever?” He mumbled, wide hands sliding over Not-Keith’s scarred shoulders, “Hard to have a fever when you’re dead.”

“Dead.” Not-Keith said blankly, eyes narrowing into a bleary eyed glare, “You aren’t fucking dead, Lance.”

Full consciousness made Lance’s heart rate skyrocket and he scrambled back, ass sliding off the bed and taking the rest of him with it. He hit the floor with a dull thud and his torso flared with sudden pain, the area just above his left hip throbbing angrily.

“Fuck.”

He curled around his abdomen, breathing deep in an attempt to move through the pain. Keith peered down at him, an unimpressed frown pulled tight across his face as he propped his head on his fist. “You okay down there?”

“Am I okay?!” Lance shrieked, glaring up at Keith, “I thought I was dead! I thought you were some apparition created by the devil to torture me for all eternity for not staying true to myself during my life.”

“Ouch. An eternal punishment.” Keith deadpanned, blinking at Lance slowly before a flush started working its way across his face, “Oh my god. I kissed you.”

“Yeah. You kissed me!” Lance panicked, “Oh my mama is gonna kill me. She raised a homewrecker!”

“You aren’t a homewrecker.” Keith muttered, pulling back from where he was peeking over the bed’s edge, “I can’t believe I did that.”

“Yes I am!” Lance argued, gingerly pulling himself to his feet, legs shaking like they hadn’t been used for days.

How long had he been out? How much time had he lost?

What had happened that Keith had been so overjoyed to see him awake that he’d kissed him?

The part of Lance that was so desperately in love was overjoyed, nearly euphoric in the sheer rush of happiness that came from finally, _finally_ kissing Keith.

Even if technique wise it had been lacking, it was the best kiss he’d ever gotten.

“You’re not a homewrecker, Lance.” Keith repeated, making Lance jump with how quickly he’d come around the bed to stand in Lance’s space.

“I know about you and Allura.” Lance argued fiercely, crossing his arms in front of his chest with a wince.

Everything ached. Ached like he’d had his ass handed to him by the gladiator on level ten.

Not that he had any idea what that felt like, no siree.

He chanced a glance downward, barely concealing a grimace at the skin just above his hip, a thick rope of scabs interspersed with dissolving stitches standing out starkly from the rest of his abdomen.

“Lance, nothing has ever gone on between me and Allura.” Keith hissed, pulling his arms out of the way with no regard to his hissed complaints, “Stop being a big baby and let me see it.”

“Funny, that isn’t what you said when I asked you about it before.” Lance snarled, holding his arms out to the side as Keith grabbed a tube of _something_ from a bag at the foot of the bed.

“I was being an obstinate asshole.” Keith returned, the fire of challenge in his eyes, “What did you expect me to say? You were still on that whole rivals bullshit. Did you really expect me to be honest with you?”

Lance closed his mouth with a click, barely choking back a hiss when Keith prodded at the wound in his side, something slick and fragrant on his fingers. “Sorry.” He mumbled, “Most of the time you were too out of it to feel when we did this.”

“You don’t have to lie to me to make me feel better, Keith.”

“Lance, you absolute dick.” Keith spat, rearing back from where he was hunched over, their faces close as he snarled, “I am gay. Queer as a two dollar bill. Flying the rainbow flag. I have absolutely _no_ interest in Allura. Do you get it now?”

Blinking in surprise, Lance tried to respond but all he could focus on was how close Keith’s lips were to his once more, the air between them fraught with tension.

It would be so _easy_ to just lean forward and pick up where they’d left off. He could still feel the phantom press of Keith’s lips against his own.

And how he _ached_ to feel it again.

“Don’t even think about it.” Keith whispered, his voice faltering as if he was struggling with the same thoughts himself, “We shouldn’t. I shouldn’t have done it in the first place.”

Despite his words, Keith tilted forward, the barest hint of space between the two of them as they fought their own desires.

If Keith was telling the truth, then there’d never been any reason for Lance to hold back in the first place. No relationship he was respecting by holding his tongue. No house he was protecting by keeping his intentions to himself.

_He could have this._

The rush of euphoria was even greater than that first instant of contact and Lance reveled in it, a weight lifting off his shoulders.

God, Hunk was right. They should have talked this out a long, long time ago.

There was so much time he’d missed out on where he could have been showing Keith how _much_ he loved him. So much time wasted where he could have just spoiled Keith to death.

His heart soared at the concept of knowing that it wasn’t a false hope, a brightly burning dream.

Lance flicked his eyes up to Keith’s recognizing the look within them and feeling his ardor cool somewhat.

That wasn’t the look of someone who was completely on board with being with someone. That was someone desperately fighting what they felt. Fighting against it because something horrible might happen if they’d acted on it.

“Why shouldn’t we?”

He’d never even realized he’d pitched his voice so low until Keith’s face flooded with crimson and those plush lips parted just so.

“It…it’s…”

“It’s….” He prompted, one hand coming down to cover the hand at his side.

Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe they’d be a distraction to one another but Lance didn’t care.

They _did_ make a good team and finally moving past all the miscommunication between them would only help that teamwork.

“The universe is more important, Lance!” Keith snarled, pulling himself away, hands clenched into his fists at his side.

The door clicked open before Lance could argue, the words on his tongue drying up at the sight of Taellia just waltzing through their bedroom door.

She looked between them for just a moment before letting out an enormous sigh of relief.

“Sweet frelling Trinity on a stick, he’s awake.” She hissed, pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers, “I thought for sure we were just gonna have to slap a pair of sunglasses on him and call it good.”

“Did our guide just say she was gonna pull a Weekend at Bernie’s on me if I didn’t wake up?”

“I don’t know what you’re referencing.”

Lance resisted the urge to pull his hair in frustration, both at being unable to continue his argument with Keith and Keith’s general misunderstanding of pop culture and the various references that came from it.

He was lucky he loved him so much.

More than enough to keep fighting for him.

He was sure the intention showed on his face, judging by the way Keith turned away from him, guilt heavy on his features.

“I forgot just how much you talked.” Taellia said bluntly, “But I mean spending almost three days with you comatose, I can’t really be blamed for that.”

“Three days?” He choked, shaky legs nearly giving out on him.

“You were hurt pretty bad, Lance.” Keith murmured, “Whatever knife you got stabbed with was coated in poison. It’s taken you this long just to break your fever, let alone be conscious enough to hold an actual conversation.”

Words escaped Lance and he let his hand hover over the wound at his side for a moment before his arms fell back to his sides, exhausted with the effort of just standing. He hadn’t realized just how bad it had been.

He remembered the pain and the burning from the void from before but even now the memories were slipping away, leaving only the slight recollection of agony and soothing, safe hands.

“You stayed with me?” He asked, turning his eyes once again to Keith’s back.

“Of course.” Keith snapped, turning back with those wild violet eyes, “I wasn’t going to leave you alone again. Not when us splitting up ended with you stabbed and dying.”

“Yeah. Not my proudest moment.” Lance cringed, “Gonna leave one hell of a scar too.”

“While we are technologically advanced, we never got to the level of healing the Alteans were known for.” Taellia explained, “Our healers are skilled and certainly the only reason you’re still breathing, let alone on your feet.”

“Her girlfriend saved your life.” Keith deadpanned, walking past her to the closet’s open doors.

“And I am exceptionally proud of her for putting up with your stubborn ass.”

Lance could only snicker at the banter between the two of them, legs shaking as he tried to move to Keith’s side. Surprisingly strong ribbons curled around his biceps as his knees buckled and he blinked at the new addition. “I was not aware that those were prehensile.”

“Try having them wrap around your _throat._ ” Keith hissed, moving back to his side and swatting angrily at the ribbons.

“I did apologize for that.”

Keith only heaved a sigh and pulled Lance’s arm around his shoulders, the support instantly making Lance groan in relief. “Did you come in here for a reason or just to bother me?”

“I think I bothered you enough over the last two days.” Taellia hummed, “I came to let you know that you have an hour to make yourself presentable. Lateness will not be tolerated this time.”

“This time what?” Lance queried, looking between Keith and Taellia.

“While you tidy up, I’m sure your husband can fill you in.”

Stalwartly ignoring the rush in his stomach calling Keith his husband caused, Lance turned his gaze to Keith, lifting a questioning brow. “Well?”

“Come on. I’ll tell you in the bathroom.”

“Already trying to get me alone.” Lance teased, the joke falling flat as Keith’s frown only deepened, their staggered path into the bathroom silent.

“Keith?”

He leaned heavily against the wall beside the showers as Keith looked to the side, his throat working angrily. “The second ceremony is today. I’m…I’m sorry but I agreed to it.”

Lance couldn’t help but reach out and take Keith’s hand, the shock on Keith’s face making it far too easy to bring the knobby knuckles to his mouth and press a soft kiss to them. “They know, don’t they? That we’re the Paladins? It’s okay, Keith.”

“No it’s not!” Keith roared, pulling his hand away like Lance had burned him, “He was going to let you die. Taellia was the one who came up with a way to save you, not me!”

“Taellia wasn’t the one who stayed with me the whole time I was bedridden, was she?”

“What? No!”

“Then as far as I see it, you’re just as responsible for keeping me alive.” Lance said softly, watching as Keith’s throat worked, that sheen back in his violet eyes.

“Stop trying to make me feel better.” Keith grumbled, “Because of me, we’re getting married again.”

“Well, now that I know that I’m not moving in on taken territory, I’m feeling a lot better about the whole concept.” Lance replied smartly, lifting an eyebrow at Keith’s incredulous look, “Look mullet, it’s pretty clear that I have feelings for you. And I’m not going to dance around them anymore.”

Rough fingertips stilled his speech, the pained look back in Keith’s eyes. “Please. Don’t.”

The fingers whipped away when Lance pressed a soft kiss to them as well. “Why?”

“Lance, please. Not now.”

“Then when, Keith?” He demanded, “I love you!”

“I can’t. _We_ can’t!”

“Why not?”

A frustrated noise pulled itself from Keith’s chest as he pulled Lance forward, throwing one of the shower stalls open and dragging both of them inside, sleep pants and all.

“Ignoring me again?” Lance huffed, “Fine.”

“No. I just…Lance, please.”

The pleading in his tone made Lance’s shoulders dip and he inclined his head, his body weary and his heart hurting.

This hadn’t been what he was expecting at all.

“Just give me more time.”

“Okay.”

The one word felt like it had ripped another hole in his torso and he endured Keith’s aid in helping to clean up without a single word.

There was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to pull from Keith by any means possible.

It wasn’t a case of unrequited love. He could see it in the way Keith moved him as gently as possible, hands lingering on the line of his shoulders even as he tried to keep his help as impersonal as he could. There was longing in those beloved violet eyes, longing and pain and guilt that only made Lance want to pull him close and hide him from the world.

He’d spent almost three days taking care of Lance, sitting by his side as a fever gripped him and his body fought violently against an assailant’s poison.

Something must have happened in the time he was out. Something that would make Keith think that the feelings they shared for one another was something he needed to stamp out in favor of the _universe._

Was it Shiro? Lance would fight Shiro for this.

He wouldn’t win but dammit would he try.

Yes, they had a duty to the universe but that didn’t mean that they had to sacrifice any chance at happiness they had in order to defend it! In fact, it meant that they needed to take the chances they had.

Their job was dangerous. It could steal them from one another at any point. His attack was a prime example of that.

Why didn’t Keith see that?

He shivered under the cold spray as he inspected the love of his life, vowing now in this moment of quiet and contemplation that he’d make Keith see.

He’d show them that they wouldn’t compromise Voltron.

They wouldn’t compromise the universe.

And they could still be _happy._

Hands gentle, Keith guided him out of the frankly freezing shower and he put on a grand show, complaining loudly about freezing his balls off even as he continued to watch.

Because why wouldn’t he? He was the eye in the sky, Voltron’s Sharpshooter. He watched and he learned.

He’d keep watching, until the time was right.

The complaining seemed to ease the tension in Keith’s shoulders and he barked back in kind, helping Lance out of his soaked clothes and into yet another ornamental outfit, the shoulder blades left bare to show off the brilliantly crimson tattoo inked into the center of his back.

Something in Keith’s eyes had darkened at that, something that looked distinctly possessive. His fingertips brushed over it gently before turning to his own outfit.

Lance couldn’t help but sigh as he took in the fully dressed Keith he was about to marry, once again. “They’ve been real the whole time, huh?”

“Looks like you’re stuck with me in the eyes of current ruling body of the universe.” Keith snickered, running his fingers through his hair in an attempt to make it behave.

“I can think of worse things.”

“Somehow I doubt it.” Keith teased, “You thought spending eternity with a version of me was an eternal torment.”

“I never said what kind of torment.” Lance purred, a broad grin breaking out over his face at the crimson that glowed from the tips of Keith’s ears.

“You’re the worst.”

“That’s what they tell me.” Lance sighed, stumbling forward to hover his hands over Keith’s head, “May I? I know a thing or two about wrangling unruly hair.”

“You? This I gotta see.”

“Keith, I’m Cuban. And I have several sisters. Have you ever seen Latina hair? You ain’t got nothing on them.”

“Do your worst.” Keith huffed, yielding to Lance’s hands, eyes fluttering closed as Lance combed his fingers through the thick fringe.

It wouldn’t be perfect but they were getting married _again._ Lance kind of wanted to be able to see his eyes this time. His hands shook a bit as he wove the strands together but not so badly that he ruined the braid.

By the time he reached the crown of Keith’s head, his arms ached so he braided it into a small tail and held out an anticipatory hand. “Hair tie?”

“Why the hell would I have a hair tie?”

“Just find something!”

“The only thing in front of me is a bunch of ribbons.”

“That’ll work.”

“Lance you aren’t putting a ribbon in my hair.”

“Why not? It’d be cute.”

“I don’t want to be cute.”

“Just hand me a damn ribbon.”

Keith grumbled but soon enough a red ribbon found its way into Lance’s palm and Lance had to bite down on the chuckle that threatened to leave him.

It really was cute.

“There. Now you aren’t gonna have to blow your bangs out of your face every five minutes.”

Keith blinked at his reflection for a moment before inclining his head. “Uh, thanks. It looks nice.”

“Doubting my mad skills.” Lance laughed, letting his tired arms rest at his side as Keith turned back to him, “Shame on you.”

Oh, that was a bad idea. Now he could see Keith’s wide violet eyes perfectly and he just wanted to spread kisses all over his entire face.

That much cute was lethal. Good thing, Keith hadn’t figured out how to weaponize it.

Lance would be a goner.

“Are you two quiznacks ready yet?” Taellia called from the room beyond, “I am not afraid to come in there and drag you out!”

“I don’t think she’s using that word right.” Lance whispered over Keith’s shoulder, taking entirely too much pride in the way Keith’s smile spread over his face, teeth clenched together to keep from giggling.

“We’re ready.”

“Oh good.”

They turned to see Taellia leaning against the doorjamb, her green eyes narrowed. “Then I’d say it’s showtime.”

Showtime for what?

~~~~

The weight of Lance’s arm around his shoulders was neglible but having him so close without him being comatose was downright torture.

He hadn’t expected the outright acceptance of his feelings after they’d cleared up the Allura Issue.

Keith hadn’t expected Lance to try so hard.

Which in hindsight, was kinda dumb.

He’d overheard Lance and Hunk talking. Even from that short conversation, it was clear that what Lance felt for him was no simple crush. He’d literally been torturing himself because he thought Keith was happy elsewhere.

And maybe part of it was Keith’s fault.

He’d just been so overwhelmed with relief when he saw that Lance was truly awake, not caught in the midst of some lucid hallucination that he couldn’t stop himself.

Even now he could still feel the phantom press of Lance’s lips against his own.

It had hurt down to a soul level to keep pushing Lance away but he’d made his decision.

They couldn’t do this. Their mission had to be first. Maybe when the universe was finally safe, they could talk about being together.

Never mind that it could be years before such a thing would be possible.

Never mind that the idea threatened to rip the heart from his chest.

He wouldn’t endanger Lance like that again. He wouldn’t compromise a mission because of distraction.

Voltron had to be his priority.

Taellia waited just inside the bathroom’s jamb, her eyes set in the determination he’d come to expect from her. Over the course of the two days he’d spent tending to Lance, something had shifted.

He didn’t know what had happened but she was firmly on board and something told him that he was going to see the culmination of everything at the ceremony today.

Briefly he patted the voluminous pockets of his pants, checking once more for the presence of both his and Lance’s bayards.

They would be instrumental to the ceremony today.

He would keep his part of the bargain with Taellia.

He couldn’t count on help from the Castle. They’d been nearly radio silent since the day Lance had been attacked and somehow that only made him worry more.

There was so much going on and he didn’t have the time to explain it all to Lance just yet.

But soon.

Soon, he’d tell him all of it.

Including why they couldn’t act on the feelings they had for one another.

Catching his eye, Taellia inclined her head and he followed behind her, Lance doing his best to keep up despite the way his body trembled with this exertion.

It couldn’t be healthy for him to be up and about already but they were out of time.

The ceremony was here.

Their path through the hallways was different this time. There was no hectic rush to get to the venue, no haze people to push through to make it to their own _special occasion._

No strangers to distract Lance and for Keith to get unreasonably jealous over.

Especially now that he knew that the strangers Lance had stared at were in fact the very same Terrians they were supposedly impersonating.

He’d definitely apologize for that later.

At some point.

In comparison to the first ceremony, the venue was basically empty as they approached, a few Libanians sitting idly in the chairs provided while a Galra in long blue robes stood next to Nazeer, the two of them sneering as Taellia brought them into the room.

“It seems you didn’t succumb to the poison after all, Blue Paladin.” Nazeer chuckled, “A shame.”

“It’ll take more than some measly poison to take me out of the game.” Lance returned, cerulean eyes cold in a way that Keith could only pray was never turned on him.

It was bad enough to see Lance’s warm eyes turn that predatory cold when directed at their enemies. If they ever turned on him, he was sure his heart would break in his chest.

“We shall see in due time.”

“These two are the couple you spoke of?” The Galra grumbled, looking at the two of them wearily, an almost bored expression on his face, “Than we shall begin.”

When Taellia had claimed that the magistrate was going to bore them to tears, he hadn’t entirely believed her but as the man continued to drone the concept was definitely beginning to make sense to him.

He had never cared less about a speech than he did for the one droning on and on right now. He was tempted to pull his bayard from his pocket now and end the whole thing but Taellia gave him a pointed look, her ribbons flicking behind her in irritation.

“…and it is in the Emperor’s name, Lord Zarkon, ruler of the known universe and conqueror of the worlds beyond it that I pronounce you, Keith Kogane, Paladin of the Red Lion, wedded to you, Lance McClain, Paladin of the Blue Lion. Chancellor, if you would begin the rest of the ceremony.”

Lance’s eyes flashed open wide when his name was said and he blinked quickly, the move threatening to make Keith crack up.

Had he…fallen asleep? Standing up?

What would he do if they got married back on Earth? Some of those ceremonies would take even longer!

His stomach dropped at the though and he squeezed Lance’s hand.

That was a dangerous thought. One that he needed to push away.

Voltron first.

_The Universe first._

“Paladins. Residents of Libanis. Delegation from Terria.” The Chancellor began, teeth bared at Keith in a vicious mockery of a smile, “We gather here today to celebrate the devotion of these two decorated warriors by continuing their three part ceremony. Previously we bound them together in body and today we will bind them together in mind. As opposed to the day of body, we will not have them repeat the vows they spoke. Instead we ask that they let their thoughts do the speaking for them.”

Attendants on either side turned them toward one another and Keith almost faltered at the sheer level of love he could see in Lance’s eyes. The attendants stepped between them and Keith’s eyes nearly crossed when the attendant painted something on his forehead, the substance cold and acrid to his nose.

When they stepped back to their places, he stepped closer to Lance, their hands coming to tangle unbidden.

No matter what happened and despite every effort he made, he loved this boy with everything he had. And if Taellia told true, he’d need the support for whatever Nazeer was about to try.

The old man reached between them and placed a hand just over the marks painted on their foreheads. Keith only had a moment of foreboding before his world erupted in pain.

He was sure one of them screamed but with the way his brain seemed to be turning to mush, it was hard to determine which one of them actually did. It felt like claws slowly tearing through his mind, an insidious glee emanating from them as they dug for whatever it was they were looking for.

Lance’s grasp was almost crushing around his fingers and Keith clenched his teeth tightly in an attempt to deprive that bastard of his cries.

Pain started to pulse from his left side, a deep pull emanating from the area with every breath he took. His limbs ached with exhaustion, legs shaking with just the effort of keeping himself upright.

_They were so tired. So tired of fighting. So tired of hurting._

_But like hell they were going to give this bastard what he wanted._

_He wanted to hurt them. And at some level he’d succeeded._

_Their souls were tired. Their hearts were wounded._

_But he wouldn’t break them._

_Oh no._

_Not today._

_He had no idea what he was messing with._

Twin roars echoed through the back of Keith’s head and Nazeer gave a strangled cry beside them, his hands falling away abruptly.

”Keith, now!”

Letting Lance’s hands drop felt a bit like tearing off a piece of his own soul but Keith did it with a screech, vision blurred and going double as he pulled his bayard from his pocket, the crimson sword manifesting itself with only a flicker of a thought from him.

For a brief instant he felt a hand in his other pocket but he pushed past it ( _got your back, Mullet)_ and dove forward, crimson meeting its mark even as his limbs threatened to give out on him.

Nazeer choked once on the end of his blade, grey eyes wide and face an unsettling shade of porridge. “What-what else was in there?”

“Those would be the Lions of Voltron.” Lance grinned, the tension in his forehead the only tell of the pain that pounded through his body ( _God, so tired. I could sleep for days.)_

A sharp shot echoed and the magistrate from before fell to the ground at Keith’s feet, robe fluttering over the toes of Keith’s shoes.

( _Always have your back.)_

“Well, it seems it was a good idea to accelerate my time schedule.”

The gasping Chancellor slid off the edge of his blade with a dull thump, a flicker of horrible realization coming to settle heavily in his gut.

They were too late.

He could feel Haggar drift ever closer, the length of the aisle decreasing by increments as both he and Lance stood frozen. ( _Was this it? At least I told him I loved him.)_

“I have quite the plan for the two of you.”

“Not today, you ugly frelling witch!”

Light exploded in the center of the venue, making everyone recoil, the Galra that had accompanied Haggar down the aisle crying out in pain. Before Keith could even try to move, darkly familiar ribbons wrapped around his chest and jerked backwards, the strength they held disproportional to their size.

“What are you doing?” He demanded, “You already held up your end of the deal.”

“Yeah, well, I’m doing this because I want to.” Taellia swore, wind rushing past them as she took off, “Come on, where is he?!”

The squall of breaks was loud in the wake of his nearly blinded eyes and clapped his hands over his ears, the pain in his side increasing as Taellia continued to run.

“Hey, lady. Need a ride?”

“Kitar, you utter ass. I should let Mira ream you for this shit.”

“I did my best. Leandro was being difficult.”

“Don’t blame your lover for this.”

“He is _not_ my lover, Taellia. You take that shit back.”

He hit solid ground with a not so gentle thump, vision returning in spots, a familiar groan echoing beside him. “I don’t know what just happened but I don’t want to ride again.” Lance complained, his voice reedy as he patted at Keith beside him, “Keith?”

“That is me. Whoa! Watch those hands.”

( _I should apologize but that ass though.)_

“I would but I can’t _see_ them.”

Taellia giggled as whatever she’d dumped them in took off at a breakneck pace. Keith looked to her as his vision finally cleared, the guilt that had plagued her expression for so long finally gone.

“I think I just crashed your wedding.”

“Honestly, I’m not gonna complain.” Lance grumbled, “0 out of 10 would not redo for the sake of renewing the vows. I feel like someone tried to scoop out my brains with an ice cream spoon.”

( _Brains probably look like ice cream if you leave them in the sun long enough. Oh god, gross. Scratch that thought before you puke.)_

“I don’t know what you two did but I’ve never seen an officiant get booted out like that before.” Taellia whistled, her ribbons holding on for dear life as Kitar jerked the wheel in front of him, a nigh comatose Leandro in the front seat.

“We’re mentally linked to our Lions.” Keith huffed, “I guess they didn’t appreciate him digging around in there.”

“He managed at least some kind of bridge but it’ll be hard to tell what he bridged exactly.” Taellia nodded, looking between the two of them, “Congrats, guys. You’re officially married in the eyes of the Galra Empire.”

Lance gave her a wry smile and pretend salute before his eyes rolled up in his skull and Keith felt panic run through his body. He caught him before he could hit the floor of the car, looking to Taellia as he pulled Lance close to him.

“It was probably just too much activity so soon after waking up.” Taellia said nervously, “Either way. I don’t think they’re going to be following after us anytime soon.”

“What did you guys do?”

“Nothing much. Just set about burning down their lovely highway skyline.” Kitar barked, “Not gonna be much of a view after what I did to it.”

“You have a lot of explaining to do.” Keith hissed, looking between the two people he’d least expected to have teamed up.

“You have no idea.” Taellia laughed, her ribbons keeping her upright as Kitar skidded around yet another corner.

~~~~

Mira watched the plumes of smoke consume the left side of the palace, a wry smile pulling at her lips.

Taellia listened to her.

Good.

Those boys deserved far more than she had been willing to give them and Mira would not stand for that. She didn’t care that her girlfriend was a rebel or had been working with a galactic organization to bring down the Chancellor.

In fact, it made her incredibly proud of everything she’d done.

But she couldn’t excuse leaving those boys out to dry. Not when Voltron had already done so much. Not when Taellia’s interference could help them do so much more.

She pushed to her feet, her lovingly typed letter of resignation placed in plain view on her cleaned workbench.

It was about time that she caught up with her beloved Tae.

Knowing her, she was going to need a healer.

What luck that she happened to be dating one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that is that, my dears!  
> Our boys are finally out of the Castle, but they aren't out of trouble just yet. Everyone's favorite space witch has made her appearance and things are about to come to a head.  
> I can't wait to see where this all goes. XD
> 
> Edit 2/5/18: I've been highkey losing my mind trying to figure out where over 900 words worth of story went only to realize that an entire scene was missing.  
> That's been fixed. XD


	5. Can We Climb This Mountain?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The events surrounding Libanis and Terria kick into high gear and betrayals come to light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've just resigned myself to the fact that these chapters are going to be ridiculously long. If y'all want, I can split it again but I have a feeling they're all gonna be like this lol  
> Enjoy!

Tension bled from every member of the Clan of the Tiger and Allura couldn’t help but compare it to the charged calm that had rippled through Altea’s atmosphere just before the flaming rocks they knew as rain descended from the sky.

These people were anticipating _something_ and it was beginning to put Allura on edge as well.

This whole situation was off-putting if she was being honest.

The complete radio silence from the Castle and her Paladins certainly wasn’t helping. What was happening on Libanis’ surface? Were Keith and Lance successful? Was Pidge dismantling the base’s security as she sat uselessly in this meeting?

The gnaw of ignorance only served to further frustrate her, drastically shortening the fuse on her temper.

Coran had already counseled her to have more patience.

Several times.

It had been decaphoebs since she’d needed such careful minding in a diplomatic situation.

A part of her was embarrassed, but the rest of her was too consumed in worry.

Her father had always told her to trust her gut and to pay special attention to her instincts.

Fitting advice from the former Red Paladin, really.

“Still no word from the Castle?” She asked quietly, voice kept low as she leaned towards Coran.

“I’m afraid not, Princess.” Coran hummed, “But the communicator has been acting strange.”

“Strange how?”

“I’m not sure.” He huffed out at last, orange brows furrowed in frustration, “I’ve been unable to truly take a look at it.”

“Then go.” Allura ordered tersely, skin prickling under the weight of Terrian gazes, “We need that line of communication. Something is off.”

For a moment, Allura feared that Coran would argue, his devotion to her outweighing his own innate social sense. To her relief, he inclined his head, turquoise eyes sharp.

“I was afraid you might say that.”

He stepped away from her with a dignified bow, easily excusing himself form the stalled meeting.

She truly was fortunate to have him.

With as goofy and scatterbrained as he chose to appear, it was always startling when his true abilities came to the surface.

He was a shrewd advisor and a skilled mechanic with countless successful voyages beyond the mapped expanse of the galaxy to boast of.

She was grateful that she had not awoken alone in this foreign world and she gave thanks to Altea’s forgotten pantheon that her father had given her the priceless gift of Coran’s guidance.

“Your Highness?” The clan leader coughed at last, “Is everything well?”

She debated dropping the façade and unloading the frustration in her chest. Her continued presence on this planet was their doing after all.

Despite being the ones to plead for aid, the Clan of the Tiger would not agree to any of the treaties she had drawn up on the behalf of Terria.

They shot down every suggestion Allura made and it was frustrating her down to the very marrow of her bones.

What were they waiting for?!

Ice flooded her veins and Allura barely schooled her features into her careful diplomatic mask, tension humming through her limbs.

What _were_ they waiting for?

Because they were stalling. They had to be. Even the most strained of negotiations would try for _some_ kind of compromise.

The Clan of the Tiger had offered her nothing but obstinate refusal, especially in terms of treating with the Clan of the Oak.

She narrowed her eyes as she inspected the cadre, stomach swooping as she finally registered a most conspicuous absence.

The clan member who had so desperately sought Voltron’s help was nowhere to be found.

As the clan leader’s third son, surely he would be required the meetings that resulted from his interference?

So then, _where was Kitar?_

~~~~

Hunk scowled at the readings coming off of Yellow’s console, a deep feeling of foreboding swirling in the bottom of his stomach. It was almost like the motion sickness he’d suffered at the beginning of their long journey through the stars but somehow different. Intrinsically different.

He _knew_ this feeling.

It had settled on him heavily when they encountered Rolo and Nyma and nearly twisted his guts into knots during the battle for the Balmera.

Something was about to go horribly wrong.

Casting a quick glance to where Shiro flew beside him, Hunk prodded once more at the communication link that was supposed to connect him to the Castle.

As with the other times he’d tried, the link remained frustratingly closed.

They’d entered Terria’s orbit not even a few minutes earlier but already something was blocking their link to the Castle.

“Shiro? We have a problem.”

Silence answered him and Hunk’s foreboding only grew deeper. Were the lines of communication cut off between the Lions too? What had happened on Terria that all communicators were blocked?

What had the Terrians _done?_

Yellow growled a warning in the back of his mind, her usually quiet purrs in the back of his mind curiously muted. He looked up sharply as Black listed to the side suddenly, the lights of her eyes flickering dangerously.

Hunk pulled back on his controls as Black’s descent started to accelerate rapidly, Yellow yowling in panic in the back of his head. “Yellow? Girl, what’s going on?”

Her panic beat at him and he got flashes of her view of Black and a dark orb making its way around the planet, waves of energy making her feel drained.

Even as she yowled, her panels flickered and Hunk looked up, eyes catching on the craft Yellow had warned him about.

It glowed with a sickeningly purple light and Hunk had to grit his teeth against the anger that flared in his chest.

Whatever the craft was, it was unmistakably _Galran._

They’d been sold out.

More so than just the Terrians selling them out to the Libanians.

They had sold them out to the Galra.

With a snarl, he pulled up on Yellow’s controls, taking advantage of her remaining power to pull her higher into the atmosphere and out of range of whatever that craft was doing. He caught a glimpse of Black leveling out slightly before she disappeared beneath the clouds.

He almost turned Yellow around, worry for Shiro overtaking his caution regarding the mysterious Galran ship. Only Yellow’s returned calm stayed his hand.

If Black was about to crash, there was no way Yellow would be so calm about the whole thing. Not to mention, Shiro was a brilliant pilot. There was no way he hadn’t noticed that something was wrong, even without the coms.

Hunk had to have faith in him.

For the time being, he needed to figure out what this craft was and how to get past it.

“Pidge? Do you copy?”

Static hissed along the lines for a moment before his screen blazed into life, Pidge’s face showing up with the white of the castle bridge in the background.

“Hunk! What happened? You guys were supposed to update me when you made it to Terria.” Pidge frowned, her golden eyes searching her face, “What’s wrong?”

“We were sold out.” Hunk growled, “There’s some kind of Galra ship in the atmosphere of Terria. Whatever it is, it’s blocking communications and is messing with the Lions.”

“Messing with the Lions?” Pidge parroted, hands flying over the keys outside of the screen, “I hate to even think it, but it might be one of the Robeasts. They’re the only things that I’ve seen that have been able to interfere with the Lions aside from the druids. It might have something to do with quintessence? Maybe a blocker?”

“I thought quintessence was life energy.” Hunk interjected, Yellow humming in the back of his head, “How would they be able to block life energy?”

“Well they figured out how to shoot it from their hands.” Pidge said dryly, “It might also explain why our com to Allura and Coran wasn’t working. Most of the castle runs off of Balmera crystals and those supply quintessence to everything. It this thing can block quintessence, then it could easily turn off Coran’s com.”

“I have to find a way to shut it down.” Hunk huffed, familiar fear sitting heavily on his chest.

He’d never wanted to be a pilot. Not the way Lance and Pidge did. He was content with keeping his feet on the ground and his hands engaged in machinery.

Fighting didn’t interest him. He fought down fear every time he suited up to do battle with the Galra. At the very least, he had the others in those fights.

But this, this was frightening on a whole different scale.

He was alone and he didn’t have a choice.

If this ship didn’t go down, Shiro, Allura, and Coran would have no idea what was going on until it was too late. By then, Keith and Lance would be in even more trouble and Pidge was a sitting duck.

It had to be him.

A roar in the back of his mind helped to settle his nerves and he gave Pidge a fierce smile, the expression returned in kind by his small friend.

“Give ‘em hell, Hunk.”

Yellow gathered herself and Hunk threw the throttle forward, a war cry echoing in the space of cockpit.

While she wasn’t as fast as her Red and Blue sisters or as sneaky as her Green sister, Yellow was sturdy. She could take a hit. She’d destroyed more than one Galra fighter by simply hitting the breaks.

Hunk piloted her through the atmosphere above Terria, brows furrowed tightly as they came closer.

This was reckless. Reckless and impulsive.

Keith would be proud of him.

He snorted to himself briefly as Yellow flew above the sphere. It was roughly the same size as the cruiser that Lance had attacked during the frenzied flight from Earth and a chill ran down Hunk’s spine as he looked over it.

Could he really do this? Could he take it down by himself?

He didn’t have much of a choice but the doubt still weighed heavily upon him. Yellow purred in the back of his mind, her faith in him pushing him forward.

They hovered over the orb in question, whatever blocker was in place making Yellow’s screens flicker dangerously.

He would only have one shot at whatever he planned to do. Getting much closer would completely short out Yellow’s system.

It was times like these where he envied some of the other powers the others Lions had. He didn’t want to risk Yellow but she didn’t have many long range weapons in the way that Keith and Lance did, not outside of Voltron anyway.

She grumbled a bit in the back of his head but her faith didn’t falter and Hunk couldn’t help his slightly hysterical chuckle.

“Aim… _pzzzt_ ….engine… _pzzt_ ….Hunk!”

Even riddled with static, it was comforting to hear Pidge’s voice.

Shots flew from the orb in question and Hunk wove back and forth in the atmosphere, keeping pace with the ship as it orbited the planet below, almost like a guardian in the skies above.

Yellow’s tail laser hummed as he picked off the cannons firing upon him, the weapon shorting out on every other shot.

Hunk grit his teeth and engaged Yellow’s extended claws, her booster flaring brighter as she reared back, mouth open to give the cannon more room to fire.

The beam sputtered for a moment in unison with the screens in front of him and Hunk bit back a roar of frustration. There really wasn’t a choice.

“Hunk…. _pzzzz…_ doing…. _pzzzt…._ even think about it!” Pidge cried, her face shorting out as the screen finally closed, the effort of keeping the connection open more than Yellow could handle.

Palms sweaty and stomach roiling, Hunk gripped at the controls tightly. “Come on, girl. You have the best armor of all of the Lions. We’re gonna be okay. We’re _gonna_ be okay.”

A stray shot screamed along Yellow’s shoulder and Hunk swore as it tilted them to the side.

There wasn’t any more time to think. No more time to consider.

He had one shot to protect everyone.

Hunk could do this.

Yellow pulled up higher, her roar echoing through the atmosphere as Hunk’s eyes scanned the orb, a grin curling at his mouth as he identified the approximate point of where the engines would be located.

Now that he thought about it, the whole design reminded him a bit too much of the Death Star.

Good thing he’d always been a fan of Luke Skywalker.

They rose as far as they dared before Hunk jerked the throttle back, their descent swift. He gave a gentle tap to one of the controls and Yellow began to spiral, the centrifugal force making Hunk feel like his brain was going to leak out of his ears.

The Yellow Lion had spiraled through solid rock before.

She could handle this.

_They could handle this._

Shots rang out from the orb as they barreled towards it at high speed, Yellow’s extra armor only hastening their descent and the speed of their spiral. Hunk only had a moment to remember the safety harnesses Pidge had installed after their wormhole incident.

It was hard to fight against the pressure of their descent but he managed, dragging the apparatus across his chest and securing it before sealing his helmet.

He wouldn’t take chances. Not when there was so much to do after this.

Lance still needed him.

Voltron still needed him.

Hunk would come away from this.

_He had to._

Yellow purred her agreement in the back of his mind, tucking her head just slightly behind her wickedly sharp claws, heat screaming along her sides as she shrieked through the air towards the ship. The shots bounced off her heavily armored hide and filled the air with the staccato blast of laser desperation.

They wouldn’t be able to dodge this hit.

Hunk knew his physics. It had been beyond easy to plan even in the few seconds he had before setting his plan into motion.

He squeezed his eyes shut just before impact, the consciousness of the Yellow Lion engulfing him like a blanket.

After that it was a haze of crashing and tearing, sparks and alarms filling his senses beyond anything else. Yellow yowled in the back of his mind at the first impact before she went curiously silent, the force built up from her descent and the spiral more than enough to keep moving her body through the orb at a breakneck speed.

The straps across his chest cut deep bruises into his skin but he held firm to the controls, bracing his body against the chair itself.

Metal tore and shrieked, the ubiquitous blare of alarms and the passing heat of explosions crashing around his ears loud enough to nearly deafen him.

It seemed to go on for eternity, the forces within the cockpit and outside trying their hardest to throw him around like a ragdoll.

In the silence of his own mind, Hunk prayed.

And then he opened his eyes.

~~~~

The light from the flash bomb abated quickly but nowhere near fast enough for the guards accompanying her to recover and make haste after the Paladins and their erstwhile savior. The Chancellor of Libanis groaned weakly at her feet and she sneered at the pathetic man.

He couldn’t even keep two wounded Paladins captive in this maze of a Palace?

And wounded they were.

Blue could barely stand, the stench of blood and acrid poison following him like a shroud. While Red’s injury wasn’t physical, she could sense his weakness in the mess of quintessence still remaining in their wake.

Haggar was the most powerful Druid in the Galra Empire, the right hand to her beloved Emperor.

She would deliver the Paladins to him.

…Once she’d seen what could be made of them.

They were the same race as her _Champion_.

She would make them fit to be weapons, fit to serve the Emperor. To have the right side of Voltron delivered to him so handily would be just the gift to make up for their losses on the Eastern front.

“Follow after them.” Haggar ordered, the guards around her jumping to attention, “We may have lost them for now but they won’t be able to go far. The Blue one is still injured. Patrol the streets if you have to.”

The guards saluted in fearful unison, their booted feet loud as they marched from the room.

Silence descended in their wake and Haggar pushed the motionless corpse of the Galra magistrate to the side, flipping the wounded Chancellor to his back with a wave of her hand. She paid no heed to his sharp cry and circled him slowly, taking in the injuries he had suffered at the hand of the Red Paladin.

Considering the circumstances, his injuries were few in number but the gaping wound left by the Red Paladin’s blade would have proven to be fatal.

A pity she still had use for him. It would be so much easier to let him succumb to such a wound.

Quintessence arced from her fingertips, the feeble cries of the Chancellor nearly silenced under the crackle of her powers.

It wouldn’t be pretty but she had no need for such things. She only needed him to track down the prisoners he lost. She had other business in this sector.

Libanis wasn’t the only planet that had called for her personal assistance.

Eventually the pathetic screams of the Chancellor tapered off and she let up on her slapdash treatment, peering at him critically before turning to the Libanians peeking through the doors. “Take him to your healers. I need him awake by sundown.” She ordered, the anxious people jumping at the sound of her voice, “See that it happens.”

With a final flare of her cloak, she strode from the room, one of her apprentices waiting patiently outside the wedding chamber.

“My Lady Haggar, we’ve just lost contact with the sentry probe orbiting Terria.”

The report pulled a scowl to Haggar’s face and she clenched her fists tightly. “I warned that foolish commander that it wasn’t yet time to test such a weapon.” She snarled, “Do you know what caused the loss?”

“Due to the nature of the probe itself, it is difficult to tell.” The druid reported dispassionately, “Although, it is very likely that Voltron launched an assault upon it.”

“With two of their Paladins trapped on this planet, there is very little chance that we’ll have to contend with Voltron anytime soon.” Haggar hummed, “Put me in contact with Commander Warslek. It seems he needs to be reminded who is in charge here.”

“Yes, my Lady.”

Haggar followed after her faithful apprentice silently, disgusted by the opulence that surrounded her. What use was this palace, this planet if not for the betterment of the Galra Empire?

Perhaps she should remind them of that simple fact.

Such a display of grandeur was only a reminder that Nazeer had not been keeping up his end of the deal, despite the base’s existence in the southern hemisphere.

Where was the GAC he had promised for Imperial coffers? The manual labor?

All she had seen since her arrival was opulence and useless fanfare.

Not to mention what she had come to interrupt. It seems that certain departments needed some more careful managing if two of the Paladins of Voltron had managed to finagle a legal marriage license from the very government they were trying to topple.

Libanis was in for a very serious change.

The apprentice paused outside a nondescript door, opening it with a single hand and gesturing Haggar inside.

Monitors covered an entire wall of the room and she stepped up to them, their individual screens coming to form a much larger picture as the scaly commander charged with bringing her to this system scowled down at her.

“Haggar.”

“Commander Warslek.” Haggar barked, “What is the meaning of deploying that sentry probe? You were expressly forbidden.”

“I merely jettisoned some non-essential cargo, witch.” Warslek sneered, “I have no need of you or your little underlings. I will see to it that Voltron is crushed here.”

Haggar barely contained her hiss, hands curling into fists within the expanse of her cloak. “So I am to take this as a mutiny.”

“Think of it as moving on to the next part of my objective.” Warslek laughed, yellow eyes narrowed as he glared at her, “I take my orders from Emperor Zarkon, not his pet druid. My job was to transport you here and I have. And since the Emperor has a standing order regarding Voltron, I know what I have to do next.”

“I will not tolerate this disrespect.” Haggar vowed, her eyes flashing under her hood, the display poking holes in the blustering confidence of the commander before her, “Return to me now and I will ensure that your punishment is brief.”

Conversation exploded in the background and Warslek’s gaze turned triumphant. “I think not.” He laughed, “I have visuals on the Castle of Lions. Best of luck with your goose chase.”

The screen went black, the abrupt end to the call making lighting spark around Haggar’s hands as she turned back to her apprentice, an aura of disbelief surrounding the younger druid.

“My Lady?”

“We shall continue as planned.” Haggar snarled, marching past the child and down the hall.

She’d deal with him when she had the Paladins in her grasp.

He would serve as an excellent first lesson.

~~~~

By the time the Black Lion leveled out, Shiro was worried out of his mind and exhausted from doing everything physically possible to pull her back to a proper flight.

They’d fallen far enough that Shiro had begun to fear that he wasn’t going to get her back online in time to avoid a frankly disastrous crash. He’d had a brief flashback to the mess they’d been in after the wormhole fell to pieces, the memories making him work even harder to get Black back to a more advantageous position.

Keith wasn’t here to help him this time and he’d lost track of Hunk just after Black’s systems had started to go haywire.

He could only hope that Hunk was okay.

Shiro was just about to strap himself in and prepare for impact when Black’s systems came abruptly back online and she stabilized herself, a confused roar echoing at the back of Shiro’s mind.

Wheeling about abruptly, Shiro peered up through the clouds, eyes peeled for whatever could have triggered the complete system shutdown he’d just experienced. Hunk had been just behind him. Was that why he’d lost track of him?

Had he dodged the attack?

He prodded at the coms once more, startling when Coran’s voice rang through the line loud and clear. “Attention. This is Coran. Paladins, please respond.”

“Coran?” Shiro sighed, relief fluttering along the line of his shoulders for a moment before he glanced to the tracking system on Black’s console.

He still couldn’t see Hunk’s marker.

Something was blocking the signals outside of the atmosphere.

“Shiro! There you are! I’ve been trying to reach one of you for at least two of your Earth hours.” Coran said quickly, “The Princess and I were beginning to get concerned. We thought we’d at least get some kind of update from you lot.”

“There was a problem, Coran.” Shiro rushed, “Kind of a lot of them. The Libanians already know who Lance and Keith are and Haggar is on her way to capture them right now. Someone on Terria tipped them off. The boys never had a disguise to begin with.”

“We’ve been betrayed.” Coran summarized, the steel in his voice enough to pull Shiro’s spine straighter.

There was something chilling when Coran had to get serious, something that made Shiro pull up and pay attention. It was almost enough to snap him into a salute but he managed to resist the urge.

Maybe one day they’d finally find out exactly who Coran had been 10,000 years ago.

“Where are you now?” Shiro hummed, rounding the Black Lion around, the tracker attempting to calibrate to Coran’s signal.

“We’re still inside the Palace grounds. The Clan of the Tiger has dragged the entire situation out beyond what is even reasonable. They’ve turned down every treaty the Princess has drawn up, usually on exceptionally ludicrous terms.” Coran huffed, “If what you said is true, we need to get out of here and go help the boys.”

“That was why Hunk and I made our way over here.” Shiro nodded, “There’s been some extra trouble with the boys. The only reason we found all this out was because Lance was attacked and they were forced to play their hands early. We need to hurry.”

“Lance was attacked?” Coran murmured, something trembling in the older man’s voice.

Shiro could understand. Coran looked after Lance rather frequently, particularly after Lance had jumped in front of a bomb to save his life. They were close and Lance could often be found helping Coran with the various chores or simply listening to the older man speak.

Of all of them, Lance probably knew Coran the best.

It only stood to reason that Coran was more protective of the Blue Paladin.

“What happened?”

“We didn’t get very much but apparently the Chancellor’s party, the minority on Libanis, saw Lance and Keith as a threat and decided to try and eliminate them. They stabbed Lance with a poisoned dagger. As far as we know, he’s going to be fine but we need to move fast.”

“Meet me at the Palace courtyard.” Coran ordered, “I have a feeling things are about to come to a head.”

Noise erupted in the background and Shiro gunned the throttle, the Black Lion cutting through the skies as he zeroed in on Coran’s position. “Coran, talk to me. What’s going on?”

“I’m not entirely sure. The talks have grown rather loud before but never to this point.” Coran hissed, his tracker moving back and forth slightly as if the older man were pacing.

Gritting his teeth, Shiro focused on his task, the scenery of Terria becoming naught but a greenish blur as he pushed Black to her limit.

He had to get to Coran and Allura. If he could get to them, they could work together to find Hunk and get back to the Castle before something else happened.

Pidge was the only one aboard the Castle of Lions, the only one with access to Keith and Lance.

Shiro didn’t like it. He didn’t like it at all.

His team was spread out and cut off and in more danger than he’d ever wanted them to be. He felt responsible for all of them.

Voltron was his second family and like hell was he going to let them keep hurting like this.

When everything was said and done, he was going to push for some time to recover.

Especially Keith and Lance.

Locking in them in a room on one of the upper floors until they figured their shit out was starting to sound more and more appealing as this disaster of a mission went on.

Lance had been operating under misinformation this entire time but Keith? Keith knew that his feelings were returned. He had ever since he’d listened in on Hunk.

But Keith was stubborn and scared.

Lance’s attack and the reveal of Libanis’ hand had only convinced him that his happiness and his feelings for Lance had to be secondary to his mission.

Shiro couldn’t fathom that.

Keith already tried to sacrifice too much for Voltron. Tried to sacrifice _himself_ too often for Voltron.

He deserved to be happy. They all _deserved_ to be happy. They couldn’t afford to wish for a peaceful horizon before they made their leaps of faith.

They might not see that horizon.

None of them would if they didn’t figure out this mess of a mission.

Black hummed her agreement in the back of his mind, affection and worry strong in the bond between them.

Black was worried about her pride and the cubs that they each had adopted. Here on this planet, she couldn’t hear them and it concerned her.

Shiro couldn’t fault her. It worried him just as much that he couldn’t contact his team.

A blip on the screen caught his attention and he pulled the Black Lion up short, slowing her descent so he could land within the Castle courtyard, a bright orange head of hair keying him in to Coran’s location.

He didn’t waste any time in disembarking, barely waiting the time it took for Black to open her jaws before he was leaping out in a maneuver that he’d scolded Keith for many times before.

“Where is the Princess?”

Coran gave him a sharp look before inclining his head towards the ornate doors of the Palace. “She’s in the main chamber of their diplomatic halls.” Coran relayed, “But I think we’re too late.”

Shiro ran up to the doors as Coran spoke, pressing on them as hard as he dared. The solid portal didn’t even budge.

“They’ve locked her in.”

~~~~

Allura allowed her eyes to scan the assorted clan members once more, eyes narrowing as she confirmed her earlier observation.

Kitar wasn’t here.

Where was the individual who had cried out for Voltron’s aid? The man who had pleaded that Voltron end the war that had ravaged his planet for generations? The warrior who was tired of fighting and only wished to see it end?

Why wasn’t he present for the meetings that he had put into place? Where was his place of honor for reaching out when no one else had thought to?

“Actually, Clan Leader Kivarran, I do have something I have been meaning to ask you.” Allura said sweetly, sitting primly in her seat as her hands curled into fists beneath the table, “I have noticed that someone rather important has been missing from your entourage during these meetings. Seeing as he was the one to personally ask for our help, I find it concerning that he is not here.”

Kivarran gave her a wan smile, his hands folded neatly in front of him. “I’m afraid I don’t understand, Princess of Altea. All the pertinent members of my clan are before you.”

Stalling and misdirection once more.

It was enough to pull her temper to the fore but she pushed it back, breathing through the irritation that brewed in her chest at his blatant attempts to make her question what she knew.

“Perhaps I wasn’t clear enough, Kivarran.” Allura snapped, “Where is Kitar?”

A few of the female members of the clan flinched at the name, most notably the Clan Leader’s second wife. She looked to be on the brink of tears at only the mention of his name and Allura turned her two-toned glare onto the Clan Leader, his wan smile disappearing as stress brought beads of sweat to his temples.

“He is off planet.”

“During such an important diplomatic event? An event that he was personally involved in bringing to fruition?”

“His mission is equally as important.”

“What could possibly be as important as sitting in on the assistance that he asked for? Surely you trust his judgement as he was allowed to send his distress beacon into the stars.”

A quiet scoff caught her attention and she snapped her eyes to one of the guards standing at attention behind the Clan Leader’s shoulder, her gaze drawing the whole room’s attention to him as well.

“Do you have something you wish to share?”

“Nothing, Your Highness.” The guard stumbled, face going pale under the death glare that the Clan Leader was giving him, “Only trying to clear my throat.”

“If you’re falling ill, perhaps you should remove yourself from the diplomatic chambers.” Kivarran said dangerously, the guard immediately saluting and booking it from the room.

Allura pursed her lips and looked once more to the woman who had reacted so dramatically to Kitar’s name, the Clan Leader’s wife looking progressively more miserable as she sat at her husband’s side.

“Surely, we can have a bond of trust here? What mission is so important that Kitar must miss our meetings? Have you been stalling to await his return?”

The woman gave a nearly silent sob at her words and a deep foreboding grew from Allura’s feelings of unease.

“Stalling? Why would we have to need to do something like that, Princess? We only await a treaty that will benefit our Clan.”

“All of the treaties thus far have been drawn up with the intention of keeping equality within the clans.” Allura said sternly, “To favor one Clan over another would only sow the seeds for future conflicts.”

It made sense now.

The Clan of the Tiger had summoned Voltron to end their war but they wished to be treated as the victors. That was why no treaty was enough.

They wanted the other clans to be subservient, to be diminished so that their clan would be treated better.

She met the woman’s teary gaze steadfastly and Allura could see the moment that her resolve broke, the Clan Leader’s wife immediately breaking into desperate sobs.

“He’s sent him to be killed, Your Highness.” She wailed, the Clan Leader already lunging for her to silence her.

“Let her speak.” Allura ordered, her voice icy as she surged to her feet, her nascent quintessence crackling around her fingers as she planted her hands on the table before her.

The Clan members looked at her hands in horror, backing away from where pink lightning fizzled around her fingers. The woman gave her a look of pure relief, clasping her hands in front of her chest. “In punishment for his interference, Kitar was sent to Libanis.”

“Libanis?”

“Kivarran sent him to be married to the son of the Clan of the Oak, Leandro.” The woman sobbed, “Their hatred of one another has been noted and counted upon. They wished for them to kill one another and ignite the conflict anew.”

“Silence, Inari.”

“Does she speak the truth?” Allura demanded, turning her gaze to Kivarran’s livid features.

“Of course not, Princess. Do you think me so callous as to punish the son who ended our planet’s wars?”

“Please, Princess. Why would I lie?” Inari pleaded, “My son is precious to me. If he were on this planet, I would happily have brought him with me. He craved the peace between our people despite his dislike of Leandro and the other Clan’s sons. He brought _you_ to us!”

Allura looked to the woman in front of her and her desperate grief.

This wasn’t the face of a woman who was trying to deceive her. This was a woman convinced that she was going to lose her son to the machinations of the politics around her.

Her son had been dressed as a lamb for the slaughter and sent to another planet to marry someone that his father knew he detested, a feeling that was returned so fervently that they expected his spouse to _murder_ him.

“What would reigniting this conflict achieve? You were not among the victors when I arrived.” Allura hissed, her callous words making several of the Clan members snarl.

“We did not have the aid of Voltron before.” Kivarran hummed smugly, crossing his arms over his chest as his guards moved to open the doors, booted feet echoing down the halls, “Of course, now that we’ve been in contact with Libanis, an even more powerful ally has presented itself.”

Allura watched in horror as a line of Galra soldiers filed in the room, a slim Lieutenant standing before them. He gave her a wicked smile before dropping into an impertinent bow.

“Greetings from the Galra Empire, Princess Allura.”

“Traitors.” Allura breathed, “We came to your planet at the behest of one of your own! We helped you because you asked us!”

“The weakest among us asked for your aid.” The eldest son of the Clan sneered, “Our younger brother was no warrior. He was too soft for such a thing.”

“You would prefer decaphoebs of warfare over peace?”

“We would prefer victory!” Kivarran roared, “And if requires us to trip Voltron and shake hands with the conquerors of the universe then so be it!”

Rage sparked to life in Allura’s chest, quintessence coiling around her wrists to crackle at the tips of her fingers.

These people had accepted Voltron’s aid, had happily come to greet them when Voltron put a stop to the war only to thrust a knife into their backs as soon as the dust had settled.

They had sold them to the Galra. Sold them out to continue warfare that had no rhyme or reason.

“Lieutenant Loz, should we be concerned about…”

Loz only smiled and Allura bared her teeth at him, secondary instincts turning them to sharp points to better intimidate her enemies.

Alteans were shapeshifters and pacifists at heart.

But Allura had her mother’s fire and her father’s instincts.

She’d use whatever she had at her disposal to take her revenge for this betrayal.

These were the kinds of situations that were beginning to jade her Paladins. The kinds of situations that made them hesitate before answering the cries for aid across the cosmos. Too often had such altruistic endeavors ended in traps or captures for her Paladins.

They were kind. They were willing to help.

But how much longer would that last before the war and its constant betrayals stomped their kindness into the ground?

No. Allura would make an example of these traitors.

In another reality, she was the Empress of the known universe, a mirror to the Zarkon she knew now. She was feared there.

She didn’t want that to become her reality but she didn’t want her Paladins to become jaded husks of their kind selves.

If she needed to surround her name with a bit of fear to prevent her Paladins’ kind hearts from being crushed….well.

_A ruler did what they must_.

“This doesn’t have to get ugly, Princess.” Loz laughed condescendingly, taking the Clan Leader’s chair across from her, his heavy boots placed carelessly on the table as he leaned back, “Surrender now and we can make sure you get a good seat when we find and destroy your Castle. We’d hate for you to miss the show.”

The quintessence around her hands faltered and she stumbled forward, feeling drained and curiously tired. “How dare you….”

The world swam and her fingernails dug into the wood of the table as she fought to stay conscious.

What was happening? Had she been drugged? Was it something in the air?

She hadn’t eaten or drank anything since coming to the room. Was it something else?

“Finally feeling it?” Loz tsked, “You can thank the druids’ new toy for that. With all the work they do regarding quintessence, it’s a wonder it took this long to figure out how to block it.”

A quintessence….blocker?

That…that wasn’t good. Alteans were natural conduits for quintessence. They had run everything on it 10,000 years ago. Without quintessence, Alteans would….grow weak.

Eventually they would _die_.

How long had the blocker been above them? How long had it been blocking their signals from reaching the Paladins?

“Technically, we weren’t supposed to be playing with it just yet….but the Commander doesn’t have a lot of respect for Zarkon’s witch.” Loz chuckled, grabbing for the pitcher in the center of the table and pouring himself a glass of the punch, “Shouldn’t be too long before those Lions of yours try to see what’s going on. After that, it’ll be pretty easy to follow their trail back to that Castle.”

Loz leered at her as she lost her battle and crumpled forward onto the table, her breath sounding strange in her lungs. She’d heard of how painful it was to be without quintessence but it had been a rare thing, a phenomenon Alteans had only experienced if they’d had the misfortune of drawing too near to the enormous black holes on the edge of the galaxy.

She wouldn’t be able to stay conscious much longer. Black already fluttered at the edge of her consciousness and she fought down the pained whimper that desperately tried to claw up the back of her throat.

Where was Coran? Was he suffering as well?

In that moment, she desperately wished for her Paladins, the strange humans that had become her family over the course of their journey through the cosmos. She trusted in them but at the moment, she didn’t want to be alone.

She didn’t want to face the specter of impending death alone.

Her body felt like it was fading, each breath pained as she shuddered on the table top, her knees hitting the enameled floor with a harsh thud.

“Uh, Lieutenant?”

“Quiet, grunts.” Loz barked, “Seems like you’re taking this pretty hard, Princess. Don’t worry. We’ll take good care of you before we put you in front of Zarkon.”

She didn’t even have the strength to shudder at the threat in his words, her heartbeat loud and slow in her ears. Her eyes fluttered without her permission and she could swear that she saw the ripple of her father’s cloak from the corner of her eye.

Was this really it? Was she to expire on this diplomatic table while some Galra lieutenant saw fit to taunt her with threats of violence against her Paladins and her Castle? Would they even realize that she was no longer among the living by the time he finished?

Deprivation of the very life energy that flowed through her veins was less painful than she had imagined when her father had been warning her about traveling too close to black holes.

It was more numb than anything. Almost like she’d gone to sleep.

Would 10,000 years pass before she opened her eyes again?

A tear dripped from one eye as she mentally railed against that outcome. It had taken months after she’d woken up from stasis before she could fall asleep without fear.

She _would not_ sleep millennia away ever again.

In the moments where her heart struggled to continue its rhythm, she felt the disturbance before she heard it.

A war cry mixed with a Lion’s roar rippled through the bond she shared with the Lions, the normally dormant pathways pushing her to fight against the block that sapped her life energy.

_Yellow._

_Hunk._

One of her Paladins was here.

While the tactical part of her brain cried out in alarm at his presence, the rest of her exhaled in relief.

She wouldn’t be alone.

Then the sky above the Palace rocked with an explosion and Allura could breathe again.

_And she was pissed_.

Everyone in the room had hit the deck when the explosion rocked through the atmosphere, the force behind it knocking some of the Galra soldiers to the floor and making Lieutenant Loz topple backwards in his borrowed chair.

Disoriented, she surged to her feet, the blocked quintessence flowing through her veins so quickly that she couldn’t help the pink lightning that zapped from her hands without rhyme or reason. It circled her in wide crackling rings, lashing out at anyone and anything that got too close to her.

Hunk had given her a _precious_ distraction. And she wouldn’t waste the opportunity.

Pulling her strength together, she heaved at the table and kicked it backwards into the line of Galra soldiers, their shaky balance doing them no favors in trying to dodge her makeshift projectile. Her quintessence surged in tandem, the glasses shattering the instant her foot made contact with the table.

The Clan of the Tiger dove out of the way, the women pressing close to the side of the room as Allura weaponized anything she could get her hands on.

Chairs flew, moving so quickly that they shattered on impact, splinters embedding themselves in Clan members and Galra soldiers alike. A few hovered in the air around her, throwing themselves so fast that they became sharp, wooden blurs. The pitcher Loz had drank from shattered as well, splattering the troops and the Clan with the thick red substance, the drink oozing down the walls.

She allowed her countenance to become monstrous, teeth growing into sharpened points and her fingernails lengthening into wicked claws.

The Clan members screamed as she roared her fury at them, their wide eyes following her as she stomped through the wreckage of the room to hoist the Galra Lieutenant by his uniform.

“What in the frell are you?” He squeaked, face awash with horror.

“I am Princess Allura of Altea, pilot of the Castle of Lions, and the chosen dignitary of Voltron.” She hummed, taking an inordinate amount of pride in the way the soldier trembled in her grasp, “And you will remember what happens when you take our kindness for granted. You will remember what happens when you call us from the stars and try to take from us.”

She let her transformed countenance meet the eyes of Kivarran, his frightened gaze taking in her morphed appearance. “Let this serve as a lesson to you, Clan of the Tiger. While Voltron is kind and they will answer your summons, if you choose to turn upon them and betray that kindness, you will answer to me.”

Kivarran nodded rapidly, falling backwards as she hissed at him, his wife looking at her like she had been sent from the heavens. “Please, Princess.” Inari prayed, “Please, find my son?”

Allura gave her a brief nod before turning her gaze back to the Lieutenant that dangled from her claws. “As for you, I think you and I need to have a chat.”

Loz trembled in her grasp and she let him drag behind her as she stomped through the Palace’s halls, the other Clan members looking at her in horror and awe as she came to the main door, her foot splintering the wide board that barred the door.

She tensed when she saw two figures beyond the door but immediately relaxed when she recognized them. Shiro’s surprise and slight fear had her shifting her features back to normal and Coran gave a quick, sharp burst of laughter as she tossed the Lieutenant to his feet.

“The Terrians sold us to the Galra as well as the Libanians. He might have more information.” Allura summarized, “Perhaps he would do well to speak with you Coran.”

Coran’s expression turned crafty and he gave her a small salute before turning to their new captive, the Galra Lieutenant still smarting from where she’d tossed him across the courtyard, the Terrians peering from the hall behind her.

“Princess, what happened?” Shiro gaped, looking from her person to the gaggle of Terrians that looked at her in awe.

“I made an example of our betrayal here.” Allura huffed, some of the adrenaline and her anger tapering off now that the situation was dealt with, “There weren’t many Galra troops here but I think I took care of most of them.”

The impressed look on Shiro’s face was enough to bring a blush to her skin and she brushed past him, intent upon the Black Lion, the bond she had with the great beast flaring to life as the Lion’s worry beat at her mind.

“We need to go find Hunk.” Allura said urgently, “If not for him, this may have turned out very, very differently.”

“Differently how?”

“He saved my life, Shiro.” Allura whispered, “We have to find him and make sure he didn’t give his own in the process.”

~~~~

Kitar’s hands clutched the wheel of van tightly, adrenaline from their chase and his part in setting the explosives making him antsy. He jerked the wheel to the side, the tail end of van screeching around the corner with enough force that he nearly bounced it off the opposite wall, their pursuers screeching past the turn.

“Can you try not to throw us around back here?” The dark haired boy screeched, arms tight around his lover as he tried to keep them pressed up against the side of the van’s wall.

“I’m trying to keep us from getting caught, kid.” Kitar hissed, spinning the wheel once more to make another sharp turn, the lyrical chime of Taellia’s laughter pulling a smile to his face as well.

The guide in question had her ribbons gripping the van tightly, their grip more than enough to keep her from getting thrown around in the back of the van like the two Paladins were. Leandro lolled on the seat beside him, face still drawn and pale from his fight against the Black Thorn poison.

When he was asleep like this, hanging out with Leandro wasn’t half bad.

They weren’t at each other’s throats at least.

“How much longer do you want me to drag this out, Taellia?” He yelled over the shriek of the van’s tires, “We’re pretty close to the safe house now but I don’t know how much longer I can throw them off.”

Silence greeted him for a moment before Taellia loomed just behind him, slender fingers pointing at the mouth of a tiny street just ahead. “Turn here. The pursuit vehicles will be too large to follow us in there. After that, slow down and we’ll make it to the safe house without them.”

“Taellia, _we’re_ too large to make it through that alley.”

“We may lose the mirrors but we’ll be okay.”

“That doesn’t sound like a good idea.” The Red Paladin interjected.

“No backseat driving.”

“Oh you ass-“

“Boys.” Taellia hissed, “We don’t have time for this. We need to get Leandro and Lance to the safe house.”

Kitar threw a grin into the rearview mirror, a chuckle leaving him when he caught the rude gesture the Red Paladin threw in his direction.

He curled his hands around wheel and jerked it hard as the alley came up, Leandro groaning as the van went up on two wheels to screech into the tiny alley.

The walls squeezed in on either side of the van and Kitar gunned it, sparks screaming on both sides of the vehicle, the side mirrors crashing off and shattering on the ground behind their van.

“Now slow down.” Taellia ordered, hand tight on the back of the front seat, “Take it slow. We aren’t doing anything wrong. Just amble up to the last house on the right and idle for a moment.”

It was a struggle to pull himself down from the thrill of the chase and a part of him still wanted to floor the pedal and take off. Anxiety prickled down his spine as several vehicles zipped past them, not even looking at them twice.

Things on Libanis were very different than they were on Terria and a part of him could appreciate it. It was far more peaceful than his war torn planet.

The planet that he loved so much that he’d broken a cardinal law and called for aid from the cosmos.

He’d called for Voltron out of desperation. The battles couldn’t continue.

And he’d been punished for it.

He didn’t regret it. He didn’t regret reaching out for Voltron’s aid, particularly when it might ensure that the children of his Clan wouldn’t grow up being taught how to wield a sword before they could walk.

He never wanted the Paladins to get mixed up in the whole situation his punishment had become but he was grateful for their interference.

If not for them, he may have met his end at Leandro’s hand.

He and Leandro had never been friendly, first of all because of their families’ tensions but most of all because Leandro was a skilled warrior and Kitar had never been one for the warfare their families valued so highly.

Leandro came from Terria’s warrior culture, a culture where being weak was the highest sin. To be saddled with Kitar as a spouse was an insult and an invitation to rid himself of an unwanted burden.

He would have been honor bound to kill him and the Clan of the Tiger would have expected Kitar to retaliate against the attempt or try to defend himself at the very least.

They were both set up.

Looking at him now, it was hard to tell that he was such a cold hearted killer. Something about his chemically induced sleep softened the icy edges of his features.

He seemed almost-

Nope.

Gonna clamp down on that train of thought right there.

In his state of contemplation, he drove right past the house Taellia had indicated, the woman in question giving an indignant crow as they ambled past.

“What are you doing?!”

“Sorry, I was just distracted.” He hissed, casting his eyes to the remaining mirror.

Inwardly he cursed when his gaze met an oddly knowing violet set.

The cocked eyebrow only served to complete the look and some of his inward swearing quickly turned outward.

Slowly, he turned the van around and pulled alongside the curb in front of the safe house as casually as he could manage, hands squeezing the wheel hard enough for the material to creak when another pod of pursuit vehicles screamed past.

Moments of silence passed where the passengers of the van barely dared to breathe. The wail of the patrol cars died off slowly and Taellia let out a tense breath, her ribbons unwrapping from the walls of the vehicle.

“Quickly. Before they decide to check this area again.” She ordered, “Keith, can you lift Lance?”

“Normally I would say yes but something isn’t right.”

“Isn’t right how?”

“It is taking every bit of my willpower right now to stay upright.” Keith snapped, those violet eyes flashing as his arms tightened around the boy draped across him.

Taellia’s expression grew tight and Kitar could help but lift a questioning brow in her direction. “I had hoped he wouldn’t follow through on his threats. With your Lions, I thought he’d been thrown out before he had a chance to do something like that.”

“You know what’s going on.” Kitar frowned, eyes darting from the slight guide to the glowering Paladin in the back of the vehicle, “What did he do, Taellia?”

“When I planted that last transmitter, Nazeer bragged that he was going to build a very special kind of bridge between their minds.” She said quietly, arms held tightly across her torso, “He wanted to do the exact opposite of the bridge we normally build for our couples. In a real ceremony, the bridge is built on the positives of emotion: love, faith, happiness. Nazeer sought to build your bridge out of pain and fear. With how you’re reacting, I’m afraid that he succeeded in at least one aspect. The exhaustion and pain you’re feeling is Lance’s, Keith.”

A tense quiet filled the inside of the van and Kitar pushed down on the urge to leave the area as quickly as possible.

Part of him felt responsible for how this whole thing had gone down. Even if he was also being punished, his people had sold out the Paladins. Whether it was the Clan of the Oak or his own clan was yet to be seen but the people of Terria had betrayed the Paladins that came to their aid.

It was their fault that the two of them were hurt like this.

A tap on the window shattered the internal current of guilt and tension, everyone jumping away from the noise like they’d been shot.

“Sitting here idling in front of a random house is exceptionally suspicious, you know.” A darkly familiar voice laughed and Taellia lit up, surprise and happiness glowing from her features.

Not that Kitar really shared her enthusiasm.

He cringed as the back doors slid open and he was face to face with the current bane of his life.

Mira.

By all rights, she shouldn’t cause him so much headache. He _could_ take her, sparse as his actual warrior training was. She was a healer, it was against her vows to cause undue harm.

But at the same time, nothing stopped her from mother-henning. It was enough to drive him up the wall.

“Mira!” Taellia cried, ribbons flicking in excitement.

Kitar had to duck to dodge their trajectory, a snicker working its way out of his chest when the path of the ribbon managed to muss Leandro’s ever perfectly styled hair.

Wasn’t so perfectly styled now.

What he wouldn’t give for a camera.

“What are you doing here?” Taellia hummed, creeping forward towards her bemused girlfriend, “What about your duties at the palace?”

“I resigned, Tae.” Mira said simply, those dark eyes combing over the inside of the vehicle, “And judging by things, it was a good thing I did.”

Kitar flicked a glance to the pale Leandro beside him before turning towards where the two Paladins curled against the side of the van, the Blue ones breath coming fast as sweat darkened the hair at his temples.

“What aren’t you telling us?” He demanded, hands curling over the back of the seat as he commanded Mira’s full attention.

“Black Thorn’s antidote comes in two parts.” Mira sighed, gesturing for them all to exit the vehicle, “While in the Palace, it was unlikely that I would be able to get the second part to them. It’s part of the reason why I followed after you. Sharing certain information about poisons and their cures was forbidden under Nazeer.”

“Two parts?”

“There is the initial fight against the poison: the first part. The second part purges the remaining poison from the victims system.” Mira explained, cautiously easing the Blue Paladin from the Red Paladin’s tight grasp, his lanky weight nothing to her, “Without the secondary antidote, the patient can relapse.”

“Nazeer was never going to give Lance the other half.” The Red Paladin breathed, a fury brewing behind those violet eyes that made Kitar nervous.

With the depths of the devotion he had seen thus far, he didn’t want to see what would happen if the Blue Paladin was truly taken away from the Red.

He might just set the whole planet on fire just to watch it burn.

“You’re probably right.” Taellia admitted, a tension to her face that Kitar was growing all too familiar with, “Good thing you ran him through, huh?”

A smile crept over the Red Paladin’s face for a moment before it dropped, one shaky hand reaching for his pocket as he let Taellia help him from the van. “I need to contact my team. We have to let them know we made it out of the Castle.”

“Inside.” Mira hissed, “I need to get the antidote set up quickly. Terrian, bring your partner.”

“Not my partner, lady.” Kitar growled, “I’d just as soon let him sit here.”

“You’d abandon your own countryman on a foreign planet while being pursued by soldiers led by an intergalactic dictator?” Mira said lightly, those sharp eyes piercing through his complaints.

Mira didn’t tolerate his shit. She hadn’t for the three days he’d known her.

Nothing he said went past her without comment, nothing he did went unscrutinized.

Part of him worried that she blamed him for the things that had happened and he really couldn’t fault her for that train of thought. If he and Leandro had spoken up earlier, if they’d owned what had happened rather than going along with the flow, perhaps they could have spared the Paladins from this whole mess.

He probably wouldn’t be sitting here either….

“No.” He gritted out, kicking his way out of the van and grumbling the whole way around to Leandro’s side.

He hefted the other man from the van, pulling an arm around his shoulders and wrapping one arm around his waist. “Lead the way.”

For a moment, he thought he saw a flash of approval on Mira’s impassive face but she turned on her heel before he could tell for certain, the Blue Paladin’s lolling head visible as she disappeared into the nondescript house. Taellia followed on her heels, ribbons supporting the Red Paladin as they entered.

Left alone, Kitar gave a huff in Leandro’s comatose direction before following them inside.

They’d managed to make it out of the Palace but what could they do now?

~~~~

Pidge sat back in her chair, heart pounding in her chest as the alarms on the Castle sensors blared in her ears.

She’d left her message.

Hunk had taken down the quintessence blocker.

There was only so much she could do right now.

Panic threatened to crawl up the back of her throat but she swallowed it down, engaging the auto decryption she’s programmed into her algorithm. It would take longer without her here to work through it personally but she had company.

The wide open window of the Castle’s control room was awash with the image of an enormous ship closing in on her location, small sprinkles of fighters already swarming from its sides.

It would have taken all of them to fight one of these in the past. It would take Voltron’s blade to bring down such a large destroyer.

But she didn’t have the luxury of the other Paladins right now. Team Voltron was scattered over two planets.

Pidge was alone.

And that was just going to have to do.

“This is the last time I let that stupid fucking Alliance try to push us into doing things faster.” She swore, surging from her feet to the main control panel at the forefront of the room, “If they just let us do our thing, we’d have finished this shit already!”

Predictably, the main console had no retort.

She huffed out a frustrated breath and let her hands ghost over the controls that Coran operated with ease. The Castle had an enormous arsenal, if Coran’s boasts were to be believed, an arsenal that hypothetically would be enough to fend off an assault of this size.

Except, the weapons system was still locked to _Altean biorhythms._

They’d tried to update it in the past but the Castle was old. It had set idle for 10,000 years on Arus. It stood to reason that a lot of things wouldn’t work the same or very well at all.

They were still working out the kinks all this time later.

Pidge shuddered to remember the times the Castle had turned on them in the past.

Her hands froze over the console and she let out a sharp bark of laughter, a wicked idea taking root in her brain.

For all intents and purposes, the Castle of Lions appeared abandoned. If she didn’t engage the particle barrier, the Galra would have no reason to fire.

Nor would they dare to.

Not with three fifths of Voltron still firmly ensconced in the Hangar.

They’d be more likely to try and seize the Castle, just like Sendak did back on Arus.

It wouldn’t take the whole fleet to occupy the Castle. A lieutenant, some soldiers and a few sentries would be more than enough to hold an _empty_ Castle.

It might be enough to get the destroyer away from the Castle long enough for her to figure out if Hunk really had taken that quintessence blocker down for the count.

She only prayed that he hadn’t killed himself in the process.

If he was…

No.

She couldn’t afford to think like that.

She had traps to set. A Castle mainframe to hack into.

Green purred in amusement in the back of her head, prodding her in different directions as her hands skated over the portions of the main console that were available to her.

First step would be to put the Castle into auxiliary power mode and lock down the Balmera crystal. It wouldn’t be good if they managed to mess with that again.

In fact, why stop there?

If she played this right, she could herd them very carefully through the Castle.

All she had to do was wait for them to make their move. Until then, she and her Lion would be putting her cloaking upgrades to good use.

She sprinted down the halls of the Castle, her footsteps overly loud in the absence of the main engine’s humming.

She’d never realized how quiet in could be in here.

Green dropped her jaw just as the first bang came outside the Hangar doors and Pidge scrambled up the ramp, her Lion already curling into the back corner of her hangar.

They shimmered out of visibility just as sentries pried open the doors to the main hall of the Hangar, several fighters landing sloppily in the enormous area. They skidded to stops, black marks betraying their path across the polished floor.

Inwardly, she cringed and shook her head.

They were going to the ones who had to clean that up later. And scuff marks did not come off that floor easily.

While the soldiers were filing from their ships, Pidge pulled up the portable interface connected to her suit and slid through the mainframe’s backdoor, the controls for the Castle proper popping up on various holographic screens all around her.

“Come on. Take the bait.” She hissed, Green’s anticipation amping up her own, “There’s no one here. Send the big ship away.”

She fed the audio feeds into her Lion, listening intently as the soldiers whispered among themselves. They seemed mostly in awe of the ease of their approach, a few giving thanks that they hadn’t been among those taken down by Voltron.

The last part sent an unsettling amount of guilt into her stomach and she pushed the sensation down, determined to focus on the task at hand.

A much larger ship screeched into the hangar and Pidge held her breath.

Waiting. Watching.

_Take the bait._

Another Galra soldier leapt from the ship, head held high in the posture so indicative of those who found themselves in command of those they didn’t see as equals. “ _Lieutenant Kadaj, report_.”

“We have successfully occupied the hangar of the Castle of Lions, Commander. We shall make haste to the main engine room and make sure that this heap of scrap never flies again.”

“ _Excellent. Make quick work of it. We shall reconvene on Libanis to take the two remaining Paladins into Imperial custody. Don’t disappoint me_.”

“Vrepit sa, sir.” The lieutenant simpered, putting his hands firmly behind his back, “We won’t let you down.”

_Bingo._

Outside the hangar’s open door there was the scream of the retreating fighters, a deeper hum revealing the location of the destroyer.

“Get these hangar doors closed.” Lieutenant Kadaj barked, the men around him jumping to attention, “We have work to do.”

Pidge cracked her knuckles and rolled her neck briefly before letting her fingers hover over the keys of her screens.

It was time to see how much she remembered from those Home Alone movies that she loved so much.

Of course, she had access to so much more than Kevin McAllister ever did. She’d always wanted a chance to show him up.

Her fingers flew over her screens as the grunts worked together to reseal the hangar, Red and Blue’s particle barriers gleaming brightly in the dim gloom of the Castle’s auxiliary power lights.

In the dark like this, the soldiers stood out like sore thumbs, their armor glowing with a sickly purple light. Quickly, she took a brief headcount and nodded to herself.

They must really be confident in their victory if they only sent one lieutenant and six guards. There were about ten sentries with them but Pidge didn’t worry about them.

Sentries on her home turf were as good as allies as far as she was concerned.

She knew this Castle. Knew it inside and out. She’d mapped the vents, taking special care to note the best hiding places and untouched areas for some of her more _questionable_ projects.

She knew the system, had trawled through its depths for both personal and team based reasons. She had a backdoor to every feature they had been able to update and a few that Coran hadn’t even touched.

But, first thing first.

She needed to knock out their communication. Couldn’t have them calling for backup right after she’d gotten them separated.

A subsonic pitch blared through the entire hangar and Pidge couldn’t help but smirk when the lieutenant’s earpiece erupted into static, the small device sparking so badly that he had to throw it to the ground.

He swore viciously and Pidge giggled, the six guards looking at their commanding officer with a hint of apprehension. “Don’t worry about it.” The Lieutenant snapped, baring his sharp teeth at the men around him, “Get moving. Firk, Alain. You come with me. Tiren, you stay here and try to set up a stable line of communication. Bordes, Savan, Entir. The three of you take the sentries and let them do their work.”

She didn’t even have to lift a finger to separate them further. This was going to be fun.

Utilizing the Castle’s quintessence mainframe, Pidge manipulated the waves of the room, letting the esoteric energy source wirelessly connect with the ten sentries sitting idly on the far side of the hangar.

“What is your command?” She hummed, Green’s amusement in the back of her mind more than driving her.

Green loved this game of Cat and Mouse she was playing. A true test of the mind was always going to entertain her Lion.

Pidge frowned deeply at the words flowing across her screen, brows furrowing as she tapped away. “Destroy our crystal? Again? Oh no. I don’t think so.”

The sentries shuddered for a moment before their sickly purple lights flashed green and Pidge suppressed a cackle of delight.

She’d have to see if Shiro would let her do something like this in a base. They’d never stand a chance.

The clomp of booted feet distracted her for a moment and she frowned as the two groups made their way through the darkened halls, prodding and poking at the doors she had locked along their way.

What to do with them…..

She couldn’t let them into the control room and the idea of letting them anywhere near the Balmeran crystal made her skin crawl. With the lieutenant’s group, it would be difficult to lure them out an airlock and a part of her wanted to keep at least one for information. Tracking their path through the halls, Pidge grinned and let a bit more power into the room coming up on their left.

Just enough to make the door open at their approach.

Let the Gladiator be enough for them. Especially when she locked him to max level.

And turned off the safety mode.

Shouldn’t be too difficult. Allura said Altean children fought that thing. A few Galra soldiers would probably not die.

Probably.

The other group didn’t concern her as much. They already seemed rather spooked in the gloomy atmosphere of the planet. It was almost child’s play to scare them into the directions she wanted. Throw up a few holograms from the memory bank of the Castle and bam, instant horror movie shrieking.

She almost felt bad.

_Almost._

These soldiers had broken into her home. They were here to _destroy_ her home.

She wouldn’t have mercy on them.

One managed to get into the kitchen only to be brow-beaten into unconsciousness by an exceptionally difficult to control food goo hose.

Another was lured into the airlock by a recording of the Lieutenant. He’d almost been thrown from it before she engaged the seals and trapped him inside.

She’d keep him there for now.

The final one she’d abandoned to the new code inside the sentries. They knew where the dungeon was in the bowels of the Castle. She’d be sure to go see her new prisoner later.

That just left the one right before her, his grumbling filtering through the audio feed she’d engaged in Green.  “Stupid lieutenant. Stupid commander. He’s gonna get all of us killed and if I miss check in again, Kolivan is gonna think I’m dead. Could have been if the Castle wasn’t abandoned. Where are the Paladins anyway? I didn’t think they’d be so dumb as to leave their home empty.”

Really? The Blades _were_ everywhere.

Didn’t mean that she couldn’t scare him a little.

Smirking, she crept from Green’s cockpit, her cloaking on her suit more than adequate to keep her invisible from the Blade’s sight.

“You know, talking to yourself isn’t the best indicator of mental health.” She said lowly, barely suppressing a bark of laughter when the Blade screamed, fur standing on end as he whirled, luxite blade clutched to his chest, “You must be new.”

Pidge let the cloaking fade away as the Blade gaped at her and she smirked.

“Green Paladin?”

“That would be me.”

“What-wh…How?” He sputtered, “Why did you let them in?”

“Do you see the other two Lions here?”

A silent head shake.

“Green and I are a great team, but even we can’t take down a destroyer.” Pidge hummed, “Sometimes you have to set up your fights to your advantage.”

“Advantage…? Oh.” Tiren said slowly, “Should I still call for backup? Of the Blade variety?”

“Actually, I have a better idea.”

~~~~

By the time Taellia had settled him in a chair by Lance’s bedside, it was difficult to keep his eyes open. Lance’s exhaustion and pain leached through the bridge between their brains without a filter, leaving Keith disoriented and snappish.

Was this what Lance had felt the entire time he’d been awake?

A tendril of guilt coiled tightly through his guts and he curled into the chair Taellia had set him in, half-glazed eyes looking over the boy he loved.

He was hurting _so bad._

Keith could make it better. He made it better before. Lance had settled when Keith had curled around him like a particularly attractive body pillow.

The pain that traveled through his body cried out to be closer, the nascent bridge between their minds scrambling his thoughts.

A few minutes wouldn’t end the universe. His legs shook as he pushed out of the chair, addled mind intent on curling up in the space at Lance’s side.

It was the perfect amount of space. Perfectly Keith sized.

A firm hand curled over his shoulder and pressed him back into his seat, the contact breaking the strange compulsion that urged him closer. His head ached as he snapped back to himself, a groan escaping him as he curled into the chair.

“What…what was that?” He demanded, looking up with bleary eyes, Taellia’s shape blurring in front of him.

“Your bridge is incomplete.” Taellia hummed, giving a soft look between the two of them, “You’re bound on two levels, body and mind. But since your mind bond was interrupted, the feathered edges are urging the two of you closer together to heal itself. There is a reason why the ceremony in triplicate was devised for only the most devoted of couples. They had to be prepared for the repercussions of being bound so intrinsically.”

“Repercussions.”

“Mind sway. Physical pain if they’re separated for too long. Those that participated in the quintessence binding would expire with their partner.” Taellia recounted, her firm grasp on his shoulder keeping him fully in the present.

“What am I supposed to do, then? Ignore it until it goes away?” Keith snapped, nearly brushing off Taellia’s hold.

They were useless like this! He couldn’t simply curl by Lance’s side. He had stuff to do.

They didn’t have time for him to curl around Lance….and bask in his body heat, heartbeat under his ear confirming that Lance still lived despite how still he sat…

A sharp whap from Taellia’s ribbons brought him back and she sighed. “I’ll move you to another room for now. The bond will settle. It won’t be pleasant and not having you in proximity will set Lance’s healing back a bit but you’ll be able to function much sooner.”

He gave her a grateful nod, heart and mind screaming in protest as he let her guide him away from Lance’s bedside.

_No. No no no. Need to go back._

He was stronger than this. He _would_ be stronger than this. No weird alien marriage ceremony was going to keep him from finishing their mission.

And…and when it was over, they could see someone about undoing it, as much as the thought hurt.

If he was going to give Lance up for the good of the universe, it wouldn’t be fair to ask Lance to stay bonded to him.

He couldn’t do that to him. Not if he wasn’t going to be able to keep him.

Keith _wanted_ to keep him but Voltron had to be more important. Their mission had to take precedence. He couldn’t let what they had distract him. They would get hurt. Other people would get hurt.

Voltron was depending on them to stay committed. Voltron needed its Paladins in order to function.

Keith wouldn’t be able to live with himself if something happened to Lance again because of the distraction they were to one another.

Seeing that wound slowly close under Mira’s hands and caring for Lance had been his punishment, a reminder of what would happen.

Their lives were so easily snuffed out and he had watched, watched and waited, as Lance fought against his poison.

Seeing him awake had been a relief greater than he’d expected.

But a reminder, nonetheless.

He had distracted Lance and Lance had almost died for it.

Taellia steered him quietly through the surprisingly large house, the details escaping him in his exhausted state. His limbs felt heavy and the soreness above his left hip throbbed as time went by. A part of him expected to see a wound to match Lance’s when he looked but only the flat expanse of unmarked skin greeted him.

He was _so tired._

And every step further from Lance made that raw part of his mind scream in complaint, an itch starting under his skin. Taellia led him to the far end of the house, their odd shuffling catching the attention of both Mira and Kitar.

“What are you doing?” Kitar hissed, creeping behind them, dark eyes suspicious, “I thought they were supposed to ‘stay together to boost healing’ or some other esoteric shit.”

“Do you ever think before you speak?” Mira growled, her hand twitching like she wished to smack him, “Tae, make sure you bar the door correctly.”

Taellia nodded and Keith almost pulled out of her grasp, eyes narrowed, “What do you mean, bar the door?”

“This isn’t the first time I’ve seen a mind bond fray like yours has.” Taellia explained, keeping her body language open and friendly, “Some couples in the past have become violent, tearing through anything that was put in their path in an effort to get back to their loved one. When a bond is frayed, it creates more harm than good if you let the bond partners stay close. One personality can overtake the other or the bond itself can get into part of the mind that really shouldn’t be bonded. For a case like yours, where the bond started out in an area that should not have been bonded, I don’t want to take a chance with where your bond would develop.”

The rational part of Keith’s brain could see her point but his instincts cried out for him to return to Lance’s side.

_Lance needed him._

“Don’t worry, kit.” Mira called behind them, “Your lover is in good hands.”

The door that Taellia led him to was nondescript and he crossed the threshold without complaint, turning to face the smaller woman, arms crossed tightly over his chest.

“It shouldn’t take much longer than tonight.” Taellia promised, “By tomorrow, Lance should be coming down from the last part of the antidote and you’ll both have your bridge fray healed. We’ll be able to figure out where to go from there.”

He nodded and Taellia went to close the door, his heart leaping in his chest when he heard the telltale click of a lock engaging.

Red’s faint purrs echoed in the back of his mind, the memory of her and Blue working together to kick Nazeer out of his and Lance’s heads bringing a smile to his face.

He could do this.

He still had his com. He still had things that needed to be done.

Pidge needed to know what was going on. He needed to get in contact with Pidge and see where she was in terms of hacking into the base.

The mission was still important.

_Lance…._

He sat with his back against the door, trembling legs crying out in relief when his weight was taken off of them. He felt like he’d gone ten rounds with the gladiator and _lost every single one._

Nearly numb fingers pulled his com from his pocket, his bayard clattering against the wooden floor beside him. The red handle caught his attention for a moment before he pulled his eyes away, engaging the com in his hand, the crackle of interference making him flinch.

“ _Keith? Come in. Do you copy_?”

Pidge.

“Yeah. We made it out of the palace in one piece.” Keith breathed, the simple act of talking grounding him for the moment, “How is everything on your end?”

“ _I just got the last signal_.” She said excitedly, her fingers flitting over the keys in the background, “I _wanted to let the two of you know. It shouldn’t take me much longer to break through the shields.”_

She sounded a bit strange.

“Good.” He sighed, leaning back against the door, eyes falling closed, “We might not have much more time to get going.”

More tapping. A brief hmm of consideration.

“Haggar showed up to the ceremony, Pidge. She’s here on Libanis.”

“ _Fuck!”_

The expletive made him sit upright and he stared down at the com in his hand worriedly. “Pidge, what’s going on!?”

“ _Hunk finally called in. This’ll just have to hold on a second.”_

Keith gripped the com tightly in his fist, concern for the others distracting him from the yawning void in the back of his mind and the heartache it inspired.

_“Hunk! What happened? You guys were supposed to update me when you made it to Terria_.”

Silence.

“ _What’s wrong?”_

That never boded well.

_“Messing with the Lions? “I hate to even think it, but it might be one of the Robeasts. They’re the only things that I’ve seen that have been able to interfere with the Lions aside from the druids. It might have something to do with quintessence? Maybe a blocker?”_

A quintessence blocker. Would something like that work on Voltron? Probably. Voltron was formed from bonds of quintessence. Trying to fight something like that would be hard.

Not to mention they were a far cry from being able to form Voltron right now.

_“Well they figured out how to shoot it from their hands. It might also explain why our com to Allura and Coran wasn’t working. Most of the castle runs off of Balmera crystals and those supply quintessence to everything. It this thing can block quintessence, then it could easily turn off Coran’s com.”_

For once her snark was refreshing. If Pidge was being sarcastic, things were still looking up.

But it worried him. If they hadn’t been able to contact Coran and Allura….things could already be looking bad back on Terria.

_“Give ‘em hell, Hunk.”_

Keith startled to full attention, looking to his com in confusion. What had he missed? Was Hunk going to try to take the blocker down?

_“Aim for the engine!”_

Theoretically that would work.

If their Lions didn’t _run_ on quintessence.

“ _Hunk, whatever you’re doing, don’t even think about it!”_

Keith listened in stunned silence as Pidge let out a half-aborted gasp, her ever present tapping drawing to a halt.

“Pidge….Pidge, what happened?”

A shaky exhale. A sharp line of profanity.

_“This is what I get for trying to leave a message.”_

Wait, what? Message?

Sirens sounded in the background and Keith could feel his heartrate skyrocket at the sound.

The Castle was under attack.

While Pidge was there. _Alone._

_“And this is why Hunk’s gut should never be ignored. I’m gonna deck everyone the next time I see them. I don’t care if I need a chair to do it.”_

“Pidge, don’t do it. Just engage the barrier and hunker down.” Keith pleaded, a dreadful foreboding brewing in the pit of his stomach.

_“Keith, if you’re getting this message, don’t worry. It probably means they haven’t quite taken the Castle down yet. Of course, if you aren’t getting this message, it could mean one of two things: you either got the real me or the Castle went down. Focus on getting out of that palace, my scanners started picking up some strange readings on a few of the ships bypassing Libanis’ airspace. Just keep yourself and Lance alive and out of enemy hands for as long as possible. I’ll bring those shields down.”_

A sharp tone sounded and Keith could only stare at the com in disbelief. He’d been speaking to a recording the entire time.

Pidge was in danger. She had been under attack at the time of the recording.

But how long ago was that?

Hours? Days?

She’d been radio silent for the last day at the very least. He’d been so caught up in his relief that Lance was improving and then the whole fiasco that had accompanied Lance waking up that he hadn’t thought to check in.

As if simply thinking about him unbarred a door, the bond surged to the forefront of his mind, a wave of anxiety and soul-deep longing pulling at the very depths of his consciousness. The adrenaline of his pseudo-conversation with Pidge pushed aside some of the exhaustion that still leached from Lance’s side of the bond.

_Lance._

He needed to be by his side. Needed to feel him breathe. Needed to feel the gentle thud of his heartbeat under his ear.

How could he be so sure that the people of this planet weren’t trying to hurt him again? How could he trust Lance’s safety with anyone else?

_Lance needed him. He needed him to get better._

His breath came quick in his throat and he curled into his knees, the foreign feelings and thoughts pushing against his own rationale and the logic Taellia had given him earlier.

Taellia and her girlfriend had helped them before. They’d gotten them out of the Palace in one piece and put them in a safe place so Lance could finish healing.

_But what if it was an elaborate trap? The Chancellor wanted nothing more than to hurt you…and Lance._

He shook his head viciously, launching himself to his feet so he could pace out the anxious tension that threatened to make him bounce off the walls. He couldn’t think like this.

Taellia warned him. She warned him that it wasn’t going to be easy to be away from Lance, especially so soon after the bond.

He couldn’t go to Lance. Not with how strange their bond was. He didn’t want to take a chance.

_Maybe she lied. Maybe she’s hurting him right now while you aren’t there to protect him._

Lance could protect himself!

_Can he? Can he protect himself while he so tired?_

_So in pain?_

_So quiet?_

_Remember how still he was._

An aborted cry pulled itself from his throat and he tore across the room, an attached bathroom flickering to life as he stumbled in and locked the door.

Another door would help.

He had to fend off the urge. He was strong.

Strong enough to give Lance up for the good of the universe.

If he couldn’t give him up for a single night, how could he manage the rest of the war? He had to push through.

Stumbling, he pushed himself further into the simply bathroom, the crackle of drying blood on the front of his ceremonial outfit catching his attention briefly before a pang shot through his chest, the pain making him curl over the pearly countertop, the breath stolen from his lungs.

What was this?

Why did it hurt so _bad_?

Sure he’d never felt this way about anyone but Lance…but he shouldn’t feel their separation like a true physical tearing!

He just…

Keith _wanted._

Wanted to go back to that perfectly Keith sized space. Wanted to go back to the softness of this morning.

He wanted to let Lance kiss him again after finally telling him the truth.

He wanted to be Lance’s _person._

Wanted it so badly it made his stomach churn.

He _craved_ it with every fiber of his being.

And that scared him.

How much of this feeling was a result of the botched ceremony? How much of it was just him? Poor touch starved Keith, desperate for the one person he’d come to love so deeply.

The person he’d come to love so much that he’d been willing to do _anything_ to make Nazeer spare him.

He needed to step back, to find a way to push it all back under the surface.

Maybe he should go? Distance would dampen these feelings. He could meet up with the others while Lance stayed safe.

_Would that really keep him safe? How safe is he without you at his side?_

It wouldn’t be the first time he’d had the thought.

He needed to run first. Run before he jeopardized everything they were fighting for because of his feelings.

But it was frustrating. This whole thing was frustrating!

They had been _fine!_ Their relationship had been going fine before this whole clusterfuck of a situation. Why did it have to happen like this?

His chest twanged again and he coughed a sob into the sink, fingers clutching at the marble.

Did the pain have something to do with how they were bound in body first? Taellia had said that distance would cause pain but surely something this small wouldn’t count?

How would they be able to fly their Lions like this?

Every moment he tried to push himself away from his longing and the thoughts of Lance, the more it hurt.

The exhaustion set in quickly, his adrenaline and concern for Pidge overtaken by the desperately frayed edges of the mental bond.

Lance _consumed_ his thoughts despite his best efforts.

If not for the exhaustion of his body and the shackles he tried to place on his mind, he would have taken hold of the bayard laying just inside the door and torn the house to pieces to return to Lance’s side.

He would have done _anything._

Just a little while longer.

Taellia had _promised._

Keith curled up on the floor of the bathroom and resolved to ride out the wave of pain and desperate, _crushing_ wanting.

He had to.

~~~~

Mira busied herself with tending to the two patients before her, trying desperately to ignore the intermittent sharp cries that echoed from the far side of the house. The Blue one to her left whimpered in his sleep, the soft noise timed perfectly with the sounds echoing from the other side of the house.

Taellia had been right to separate them, even if the pain it caused threatened to make her ill, the vow that bound her urging her to ease their suffering.

The healers of Libanis had always had difficulties when it came to treating these cases. Many of the tragedies that had come from frayed or misshaped bonds had come about from their misguided kindness.

Being apart while their minds healed would be excruciating. Couple that with their exhaustion and the Blue one’s injury….well.

It pulled at the fiber of her being.

She did not enjoy seeing people in pain. She did not enjoy the hand Taellia had in crafting this entire situation even as she felt pride in how Taellia was taking responsibility for it.

The system of Libanis was flawed. Sick. It needed to be restructured, redone from the ground up.

But first, they needed to remove the source of their illness.

The Galra.

There would be no recovery while the Galra occupied Libanis. No respite from the pain they had caused. And if what Taellia had relayed proved true, their Witch was on the planet.

The Witch who had ordered entire planets drained of their life energy.

The idea of it made Mira grey and sick. All those lives lost.

And for what?

To make an intergalactic tyrant even more powerful? He’d already reigned for millennia.

Mira let her eyes rest on the Paladin before her, brows furrowing. They were trusting the universe to these young warriors. Trusting them to fight off an evil that was more than physical.

The Galra Empire was everywhere. It was the currency, the government, the trade. It was more than the ships and soldiers and monsters.

“How are you going to do it?” She breathed, smoothing one hand over the Paladin’s forehead, “How will you break the pillars that support the rotting structure?”

“Mira?”

She looked up slowly, Taellia’s worn face looking back to her. “Yes, darling?”

“How’s he doing?”

“They’re both feeling the effects of the separation.” Mira sighed deeply, part of her relaxing when Taellia came to stand behind her, soft hands rubbing circles in Mira’s tense shoulders, “The antidote is working quickly however. Both Lance and Leandro should be free of the poison by morning light.”

“That’s a good sign.”

Mira inclined her head briefly, leaning back against her girlfriend’s warm body, not even flinching when those ever present ribbons tickled at her legs. “I am not as practiced in determining the healing time for mind bonds.” She admitted, “It is distressing to see them in such pain.”

Taellia hummed for a moment, skilled hands working over Mira’s shoulders even as she considered her next words carefully. “I’m sorry, love.” She whispered, “I know this is hard for you but pain is necessary for some healing, right? Setting a bone can cause pain but it’s the only way to make sure it heals correctly.”

“I know that this pain is unavoidable.” Mira hissed for a moment, settling under Taellia’s patient hands, “But I wish it wasn’t.”

“I wish it wasn’t too.” Taellia murmured, “I wish that I had acted sooner. That I had pushed my advantage faster. I can only hope they will forgive me.”

“Forgive you?”

“Their ceremony was a mockery, Mira.” Taellia sniffed, “Surely, you can see how beautiful their bond could have been. It’s small and new but the love between the two of them has potential. Potential to be legendary. A love to transcend space and time. A love that people sing of, that they dream of. A pair of warriors, deeply devoted to one another even as they skate through the cosmos to free the universe from the grasp of the darkness. The picture is stunning.”

Mira had always appreciated Taellia’s empathetic heart. She felt things so deeply, emotions and bonds swimming through her mind’s eye like the most ethereal of art. Taellia saw beauty in the potential of others, particularly the potential of their bonds.

It was why she made such a thoughtful planner. And her abilities as an officiant were without a doubt beyond what Mira could have ever imagined. Taellia could weave a mind bond so soft and sweet that the holders would feel nothing but their loved ones most cherished and devoted love. She bound those in body with a feather-light touch.

And those that sought her for quintessence binding made a symphony of color and creation when she was done with them.

“You know that this whole situation was just as much a barb to you as it was a punishment for these Paladins.” Mira consoled, “Nazeer has made every achievement in your career a battle. It would have given him great joy to ruin something you were a part of so intrinsically.”

Her hands tightened briefly, chest shuddering under Mira’s head. “I know.” She said softly, “And it makes part of me feel better but the rest of me is so, so very hurt, Mira. I could have given them something beautiful. Something that they would revel in.”

“It isn’t over yet, darling.” Mira hummed, turning in place so that she could look up into Taellia’s tearful green eyes, “They yet live. And that means there will be time. You’ve done as much as you can for them now. The next time you craft, it will be because it is your will. If they seek you out, then you may worry about the masterpiece you would craft for them.”

Taellia let out a choked laugh, her next words interrupted from yet another shrill cry from the backside of the house, an accompanying whimper pulling itself from the boy in front of her. Mira turned back to her patient and replaced the cloth that sat on his forehead, softly brushing his hair out of his face. “Keep a careful eye on him tonight, Mira.”

“I don’t think he’ll be taking off.”

“The Blue Paladin is full of surprises.” Taellia warned, “Red was in his right mind when all this started. Blue, Lance, has been in a state not unlike that of dreaming. He may act without the direction of his conscious mind.”

Giving the sleeping boy a sharp look, Mira nodded, standing at last to press her forehead to Taellia’s. “I will be careful, Tae.” She promised, “But you need to rest. I will not hesitate to put you out if I have to.”

Taellia’s answering giggle lifted Mira’s heart and she let her lover go reluctantly, ribbons sliding down her arms slowly. “I will as long as you promise to rest at first morning’s light.”

“That all depends on my patients, I suppose.”

Taellia chuckled again, leaving her behind with a cheeky blown kiss. Mira grabbed for it with a smile, holding it close to her heart before she turned back to her task at hand.

The night passed slowly but she kept her vigil. It was exhausting to watch over the two of them, especially as Lance continued to fret and whimper through the whole night and Leandro was prone to fits of thrashing and wheezing, his poisoning far more severe than Lance’s.

The two moons crossed each other in the sky and Mira found her vigil slipping, body sluggish with the exhaustion of the previous day’s excitement and efforts. Her eyes slid open and closed, minutes passing by with each blink.

One blink seemed to go on forever and she was brought back to herself by the overly loud creak of a board. She jerked upright and surged to her feet, her heart nearly stopping when she found herself face to face with a standing Lance.

His blue eyes nearly glowed in the light of the moon, a blankness behind them that spoke of his unconscious state.

“Keith.”

“He’s okay.” Mira coaxed, trying to keep her voice low and soft.

It wouldn’t do to try and wake him nor would it do here any good to show herself as an antagonist to his goal.

“Hurts.” Lance mumbled, “He hurts. Not okay.”

Their mind bond was nearly healed but it was still too soon to let him close. It was far too early for him to be up at all.

“You need to stay here, Lance.”

Blue narrowed and light flashed at his side, a weapon appearing in the hand he’d had hanging. That…that wasn’t a good development.

“I _need_ to go to Keith.”

Footsteps echoed behind her but she didn’t dare blink. Didn’t dare to take her eyes off of the patient before her.

“If you go to him now, you’ll hurt him more.”

Oh thank the Trinity.

Taellia.

Those blue eyes shifted from her to the woman that stood in the doorway, his face still curiously blank. “I’ll hurt him?”

“The bond between you is healing, Lance.” Taellia cooed, her voice so very calm and matter of fact, “Sometimes things hurt while they’re healing.”

A single tear escaped on one side and the weapon disappeared. “He shouldn’t hurt anymore.”

“I know.”

“He’s hurt enough.”

“You’re right, Lance.” She whispered, “But it won’t be much longer. You’re almost there.”

Mira marveled at Taellia’s practiced ease, the paladin calming under her soft words. “He’s so far away.”

“The distance was needed to make sure the bond didn’t heal wrong.”

“Like a broken bone.”

“Just like a broken bone.”

The paladin nodded wearily, shambling a few steps to the right. Mira watched him carefully, hands at the ready just in case whatever was pushing him along faltered.

“I can bring you closer.” Taellia promised, ignoring the warning look that Mira gave, “But you can’t go through the door, okay?”

“Closer is good.”

He continued to move along, slow shuffling steps that would have sounded terrifying in any other situation. He and Taellia ambled along, the shorter woman murmuring to him even after she left Mira’s hearing.

She could only hope that Taellia was making the right decision.

~~~~

The wall behind him was surprisingly comfortable when he awoke, a gentle tapping on the door in front of him bringing him to full consciousness.

Lance sat still for a moment before the sheer strangeness of his current situation hit him.

He….had _no idea_ where he was.

Like way worse than those brief moments where he woke up and forgot he wasn’t safe back at home. He literally had no idea where he was at the moment.

He was sitting on the floor? Did he fall asleep on the floor?

Did he end up at one of those weird space parties again? Because if he somehow managed to get lost in the middle of this, Allura would probably kill him.

Middle of….

Oh.

Shit.

He blinked rapidly, grabbing for the hem of his shirt and staring down at the ropy mass of black scabs that sat above his left hip, the events before he passed out making themselves known once more.

He’d married Keith. _Again._ Something had been weird when that Nazeer guy put his hand on his head and it had hurt. He’d taken down some kind of Galra in a dress?

A part of him was reasonably sure that Haggar had shown up.

Did he shoot Haggar?

He’d kissed Keith.

His heart fluttered in his chest at the thought, a soft, dopey smile curling the corners of his mouth without his permission. The smile curved downward though when he recalled the argument they’d had following after it.

Keith had pushed him away. Pushed him away ”for the good of the universe”.

The thought sat heavy on Lance’s mind and tasted bitter on the back of his tongue.

It _hurt._

Especially when he loved Keith so much, when he’d been _in love_ with Keith for so long.

Heaving a deep breath, he pushed the hurt to the back of his mind and drew on the vast well of feelings that he harbored for Keith.

He wouldn’t let Keith push him away. He’d fight for him. Tooth and nail.

He’d remind him every day if he had to.

They deserved happiness.

Gingerly, he pushed himself to his feet, hissing slightly at the way the action pulled at the scab on his side.

( _Lance?)_

The gentle tapping started up again and Lance found his eyes drawn back to the door in front of him, something instinctual in the depths of his soul knew exactly who he’d find behind the barrier of wood.

“Keith?”

The tapping stopped abruptly, a shuffling echoing from the other room before he heard the familiar sound of a throat being cleared. “Lance?”

His voice sounded so weak. What had happened while he’d been unconscious? Keith’s voice was crackly and broke halfway through saying his name.

“What are you doing in there?”

The soft huff of a laugh almost made Lance smile but something didn’t quite feel right. “What do you remember from yesterday?”

So he hadn’t been unconscious that long. That was a relief. After losing almost three days, he was paranoid about passing out.

“Waking up with a lovely porcelain angel.” Lance drawled for a moment, the almost offended cough enough to bring a real grin to his face, “Kissing said angel. Arguing with him. Marrying him again. Having some weird brain voodoo happen with the Chancellor guy. I think I shot a Galra in a dress and then Haggar showed up?”

“Well, good to know you didn’t forget this time.” Keith said dryly, the door doing nothing to disguise the look Lance just _knew_ was on his face.

“A guy forgets a bonding moment one time.” He teased, moving closer to the door, a need to be closer to Keith driving him.

“Well, I had to be sure.” Keith responded, the floor creaking on the other side of the door, “You seem to have a habit of forgetting.”

“Oh I don’t think I’ll ever forget this.” Lance whispered, leaning his forehead against the door.

“You also thought you were dead and I was your eternal torment in hell.”

( _Whatever the fuck that was supposed to mean.)_

“I was going to give the Devil a handshake, not gonna lie.” Lance laughed, “I could think of worse ways to spend eternity.”

This close to the door, he could hear the little catch in Keith’s breath at his words and it picked at his heartstrings, playing him like a marionette.

“Lance…”

“Oh, you’re awake!”

The sudden chirp behind him made him jump and he smacked his head off the door, a muffled curse pulling itself from his lips as he rubbed his forehead. Keith’s hoarse laughter on the other side of the door only made him scowl as he turned to see a bubbly Taellia, ribbons flicking happily.

“If I wasn’t before, I definitely am now.”

“That’s good news.” She smiled, “You look better than yesterday. I was coming to check on Keith, why don’t you run along to Mira so she can give you a clean bill of health?”

“Mira?”

“She’s in the other room.”

Lance stood idle for a moment, torn between making sure the poison from earlier was out of his system and staying behind to actually, _physically_ , see Keith.

“Just go, Lance.”

Keith’s words were terse, the playful teasing of just a few seconds ago gone. A curious tension existed between them again and Lance huffed out a breath.

If Keith couldn’t figure out where he was going to stand, fighting for him was going to be one hell of an uphill battle.

( _If I see his face right now, I don’t know what I’ll do.)_

“Fine.”

It took every fiber of his being to turn his back on the door but he managed it, trotting down the hall that Taellia mentioned. He peeked his head inside the door, a Libanian woman looking up to meet his eyes with a stern smile. “You’re awake.”

“I take it that you’re Mira?” He smirked, giving her a playful wink, “Such a lovely lady to have won the heart of our helpful guide.”

The stern smile faltered for a moment before she chuckled, patting the bed beside her as she shook her head. “Your husband has his hands full indeed with such a flirt.”

The other occupant of the room groaned loudly at her words, raising his hands to rub at his eyes. “Mother save me from the company of fools.”

“I see that almost a week of fighting off an alien poison hasn’t done any wonders for your personality.” Lance huffed, sitting gingerly on the bed that Mira indicated.

“I see that the same incident has not tamed your wagging tongue.” Leandro pouted, one icy blue eye peeking at him through the gaps in his fingers, “I fear that you would continue talking even after you’ve passed from this world.”

“Boys, behave.” Mira snapped, the steel in her voice instinctively making Lance sit up straighter.

There was something about Mira, something in her demeanor that reminded him viciously of his mother. She was no nonsense, kind but stern.

He missed Earth so much.

Lance sat patiently as Mira checked him over, even refraining from making more smart comments in an effort to not antagonize the other resident of the room as Mira poked and prodded at the wound in his side.

“Everything looks to be healing nicely. I don’t see any more signs of fever or inflammation so we can continue to assume that you won’t be needing a booster on the antidote. Take care not to overextend yourself for the time being, the wound is closed over well but any excessive movement will open it up and expose the healing flesh.”

Lance nodded dutifully before rushing from the room as soon as Mira gave him the okay.

He wanted to find Keith.

Now that he was awake and not about to be bundled off to yet another marriage ceremony, they needed to talk about what happened while he was unconscious. He was missing a rather large chunk of the story thus far and he wanted to catch up.

Why had Taellia chosen to help them? How did Leandro end up in here as well? Did he figure out where their betrayal had come from?

He had a multitude of questions and he _would_ have their answers.

( _I shouldn’t stay.)_

Taellia was the first person he found in the maze of hallways and doors, her brows furrowed as she read something off the holographic screen emanating from her wrist.

“Oh, Lance!”

“Hi. Where’s Keith?”

“Last I saw, he’d been raiding the kitchen like some heathen child.”

Lance suppressed a snort at her comparison before nodding his thanks toward her. He should have guessed that Keith would have been in the kitchen. The boy was a bottomless pit. Hunk always made double on the nights he made Keith’s favorite, simply because of how much Keith would inhale.

Navigating his way through the house took a moment but he finally found the room he was searching for, a dark headed man bent over the table and hurriedly wolfing down something that looked remarkably similar to Earth cereal.

He ran into the room, an excitement building in his chest that had nothing to do with getting his questions answered. A part of him had genuinely missed Keith in the short time that they had been parted.

That being said, his disappointment was nearly palpable when the man turned and he proved to be unfamiliar.

Perhaps this was Kitar? He had a fuzzy recollection of Taellia calling him by that name while they were escaping but everything after the brain bridge fiasco was a blur.

Kitar gave him a probing stare for a moment before gesturing to the back door with a tilt of his head. Lance’s eyes widened in realization and he nodded, mouthing his thanks before moving towards the door.

_(Lance would be safer here. Without me.)_

The oiled hinges swung open silently and Lance stared at the line of Keith’s back, the bag twisted in his hand causing Lance’s heart to drop to his feet.

( _I need to give him up sometime.)_

Keith was trying to bolt.

“Running away again.” He hissed, unable to keep the hurt and anger in his chest from bleeding into his voice.

What happened to their teamwork? What happened to for the good of the universe?

Why was Keith going to leave him behind here? Some misguided hero complex?

Lance was his _partner_ , in more ways than the ones he wanted. Sure, he wanted to be Keith’s romantic partner and eventually life partner. But they’d already proven that before all that they were _space ranger partners._

They made a great team.

A fantastic team even.

So why was Keith _trying to leave him behind?_

The Red Paladin whirled at the sound of his voice, violet eyes wide with guilt and surprise. “Lance. I…I didn’t think Mira would pronounce you good so fast.”

“You thought you’d have plenty of time to book it out of here to go be the hero.” Lance snapped, fists clenched tightly at his side.

“I don’t want to be a hero, Lance.” Keith pleaded, “You’re still hurt. I didn’t want to put you in any more danger.”

“Newsflash, Keith. I’m going to be in danger no matter where I am on this planet!” Lance snarled, his voice raising without his conscious intention, “I thought you would have at least respected me enough to take me with you. We’re partners!”

( _I knew I should have left earlier. I…I can’t leave him behind like this.)_

“You’ll only slow me down.” Keith snapped, twisting his eyes to the side, shoulders hunched in like he expected a blow.

( _I don’t mean it. I love you.)_

Lance flinched like the words had physical weight, the barb striking at the heart of some of his more deeply seated insecurities.

He was a talented sharpshooter, sure. Pretty good with plans and observation.

But he wasn’t like Keith and Shiro.

He wasn’t as strong or fast.

Keith was right. With his wound, he would slow Keith down.

But that didn’t mean he had to like it…or accept it.

That couldn’t be the only reason. They’d been hurt around one another before. They’d been hurt on far more dangerous missions than this one. They’d stuck around in situations where they _really_ would slow each other down.

Keith was leaving him behind to _protect himself._

“Why won’t you just talk to me?” He heard himself sniff.

( _Oh, no. Lance, no. Please. I’d tear down the moon to keep you from crying.)_

“We’re talking right now, cargo pilot.”

A part of Lance knew exactly what Keith was doing. It was something he’d seen him do in the past when he felt like a situation was getting out of his control. He’d bait and barb and hiss until everyone who cared was too hurt to reach out again.

Too hurt to see that Keith was hurting as well.

( _You’re a great pilot, I’m sorry. But I can’t let you hurt anymore.)_

“Quit pushing me away. We make a good team.” Lance murmured, “But we can’t do that if you keep stuff from me. What happened while I was unconscious, Keith? What happened that’s made you so scared?”

“I’m not scared!”

( _I’m terrified.)_

“Who are you trying to convince, Keith? Me or you?” Lance snapped, “This doesn’t have anything to do with why you won’t hear me out about what’s between us, does it?”

( _I can’t have you, Lance.)_

“You can have me, you idiot!”

“What?”

“What are you talking about, what?” Lance huffed, anger making his chest heave as he fought to reign himself back in, heart pounding in his chest, “I know what you said!”

Keith only stared at him, those lovely violet eyes full of an emotion that Lance couldn’t even begin to name. Part of it was hope, desperate wild hope.

But the rest was inscrutable.

“What I want doesn’t matter.” Keith hissed at last, turning on his heel abruptly.

_(I’m sorry. So sorry. I love you.)_

“I didn’t think we’d get prizes and a show…and yet here we are.” A voice hummed from the opposite side of the alley that the backdoor opened up into.

Lance felt a chill run down the column of his spine and he turned slowly, heart in his throat as a Galra lieutenant stepped from the shadows, sentries cutting off either side of the alley the back door let out into. Panic seized at his throat and he resisted the urge to look back to the kitchen they had both exited.

How long had he been standing there? How much had he seen? How much had he heard?

There wasn’t any way to warn Taellia and the others without giving them away.

They could try to fight their way out. His bayard sat heavily in the pocket of his pants and he could already see Keith’s fingers twitching to grab his own.

“It’s a shame to see a lover’s spat so soon after a wedding.” The lieutenant sniffed, gesturing lazily to the sentries, “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“Of course not.” Lance smirked, pushing his panic and distress down.

He could deal with those later. He could deal with Keith almost _leaving him behind_ later.

“If anything, you’ve given us some targets to work off the spat.” He laughed, pulling his bayard from his pants smoothly, lining up the sight in one practiced move.

He could almost feel the anticipation rolling off of Keith, parts of it tinged with his previous anger and fear. The telltale flash of red light in the corner of his eye settled him even further and he couldn’t deny the way his heart jumped when he felt the heat of Keith’s back so close to his own.

“You talk too much.” Keith murmured, a weight of fondness in his voice.

( _Please. Please don’t get hurt.)_

“That’s what they keep telling me.” Lance smiled, keeping his blaster trained on the Lieutenant in front of them.

The Lieutenant stared at them for a moment, sharp yellow eyes narrowing into glowing slits. “It would be in your best interests to come quietly.”

“That’s not gonna happen.” Keith retorted, voice low.

“It will if you have any intention of leaving this sector’s people unharmed.”

Lance’s blood ran cold.

“What are you talking about?”

“My ship is currently docked at the main castle. It would only take a few ticks for it to be here.” The Lieutenant hummed, “And I have no issues with levelling this entire block if that’s what it takes to get you to surrender.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Wouldn’t I?”

Lance could feel Keith shaking behind him, anger welling up hot and fast. “We won’t let you do that!”

“Then you should probably drop your weapons.” The Lieutenant said breezily, the sentries marching a few steps further into the alley, “Considering I’ve already made the calls.”

( _Bluffing. He’s got to be bluffing.)_

A consistent hum of low flying aircraft vibrated down Lance’s bones and he fought the helplessness that threatened to sit heavily on his stomach.

This whole situation had been such a mess. They’d been trapped and manipulated from the beginning and Lance was tired of it! Tired of them being bound by all these restrictions and bonds and threats.

( _Not a bluff then.)_

“What would your boss say about killing an entire street of locals? Don’t you guys need these people?” Keith tried again, the red bayard faltering in Lance’s peripheral.

“Aren’t they the ones who gave you that fancy high tech base?” Lance added, impressed that Keith was trying to talk first and _not_ shoot first.

“We have what we want from these people.” The Lieutenant breathed, “Destroying some of the trash would be doing these people some good.”

( _Oh, I want to just kick him in the face.)_

“Your time is wasting, Paladins of Voltron.”

“Keith.” Lance whispered, taking a half step back so that his back was against Keith’s, “We can’t let them hurt these people.”

“I know that.” Keith snapped, the heat in his voice sapped from helplessness, “We only managed a day outside the Palace.”

“Maybe it’ll be enough.”

“I’m glad the two of you can see reason.” The Lieutenant smirked, sauntering forward when Lance let his focus on the sight of his gun falter, “This doesn’t have to end in bloodshed.”

Lance waited until the Lieutenant was within point blank range, his anger and frustration over this whole situation pushing past his rational thought.

He was done with being trapped. Done with being manipulated.

He was done with this!

( _Lance, DON’T DO IT!)_

He flipped the end of the rifle up into the Lieutenant’s face and squeezed his finger on the trigger. He could see himself reflected in the strange gold of the Galra’s eyes, surprise and anger evident in the pupil-less depths.

He hadn’t counted on the Lieutenant being able to react so quickly.

The Galra flinched at the sound of his rifle firing, the small movement turning the perfect headshot into an incredibly painful graze, a roar tearing itself from his lips as he jolted forward, grabbing Lance’s rifle and pulling him towards him.

An armored knee met his middle and he wheezed out a broken cry before crumpling at the Lieutenant’s feet.

“Lance!”

“That’ll be enough of that.” The Lieutenant snarled, throwing in another kick for good measure.

Lance curled into himself, a sharp groan escaping him when the pointed toe of the Lieutenant’s boot met with his injured side.

“Make a move, Red Paladin and I’ll strike him down right here.” He threatened, boot flipping Lance to his back and pressing lightly against his throat, “What better way to cripple Voltron?”

Lance wheezed under the pressure of the shoe, hand still gripping his bayard tightly.

He wouldn’t give up here. If they took the Lieutenant down, there would be no order to fire on the neighborhood.

It would keep these people safe.

Sure, he wasn’t normally so hotheaded but he needed to do something, dammit.

“Lance, stop.”

The sheer terror in Keith’s voice made him freeze and he looked up to meet Keith’s pleading violet eyes.

( _Please. Don’t kill him. Lance, stop being such a goddamn hero for a minute.)_

“One of us has to be the hero, Keith.”

Keith’s face creased in anger for a moment before his shoulders dropped weakly, the sentries finally catching up with where they were.

“Not this time, Lance.” Keith breathed, “Please.”

Lance let his eyes close in frustration.

Soon.

They’d figure all of this out.

~~~~

Taellia poured over the missive on her arm computer intently, consuming the information at a break-neck pace.

The Galactic Rebellion had officially announced their alliance with the Voltron Coalition.

Part of her was ecstatic at the confirmation but the rest of her was confused. What purpose did it serve to reveal the organization like that?

It would only jeopardize the mission for several high key operatives on the different planets they were attempting to liberate. Her own mission would have been jeopardized if she hadn’t met the Paladins the way she had.

The Rebellion protected their own and she would have been duty bound to blow her own cover to get them out.

Sure, their current plan of action had turned out very similarly but not at the expense of her mission. Keith had taken care of the Chancellor and she had planted their last transmitter and got them out of the Palace.

They’d come up with a way to make it work.

The sounds of raised voices caught her attention and she was moving before she could stop herself. What were they doing? Why were they outside?

They weren’t safe yet. Patrols were still ongoing to find them. To find all of them.

And the Paladins were having an argument in the back alley!

She raced through the house, a furious Mira pushing her way out of the makeshift sick bay to follow after her. They made it to the kitchen in no time, a grim Kitar standing at the door that led out into the alley.

“Keith was trying to leave.”

Taellia pulled up short at Kitar’s terse words, the line of his shoulders taut with strain. Keith had been trying to sneak out? He was going to leave Lance behind and take off into the city himself?

What did he expect to accomplish by that?

As far as she was aware, the Paladins had no idea how to navigate Libanis. He would have ended up hopelessly lost.

And there where would she be? Faced with a group of angry Lion piloting Paladins demanding to know where their erstwhile Red had gone.

She definitely didn’t disagree with Lance going to stop him but clearly the two of them had no idea how to do anything quietly.

“What’s going on out there?” She demanded, stomping up to Kitar’s side.

“They caught attention.”

Taellia could only stare, frozen as Keith and Lance squared off with the Galra lieutenant in front of them. She watched in horror as Lance tried to take him down only to be foiled by a flinch.

“Why don’t they fight?” Mira whispered, equally as frozen in place.

“They’re outnumbered, Blue is injured and the Lieutenant threatened the entire block.” Kitar answered, tension shaking his hands, “And I just stood here.”

“You’re unarmed.”

“That’s never stopped my people before.”

Taellia shook her head viciously, pushing forward, only to be stopped by one of Kitar’s arms. “If we reveal ourselves now, we’ll only get them into more trouble.”

“Lance tried to fight for us! We can’t just let them take them!” Taellia snarled, pushing desperately against Kitar’s surprisingly strong grip.

“This will work out.”

She stilled in his hold, a vicious suspicion blooming in her chest. A ribbon lashed out, pushing him away from her and into the kitchen table, cereal spilling on the floor. Another ribbon joined its twin and pushed him up against the wall, her eyes promising swift and deadly retribution.

“And what is that supposed to mean? Did you let them go out there knowing they’d be discovered? Did you call them to our location?”

“What? No!” Kitar cried, pulling fruitlessly at the ribbons that bound him, “I wouldn’t do that! I don’t want those boys to be hurt any more than you do!”

“It was your people who sold them out.” Taellia growled, “How can I trust that you aren’t as dishonorable?”

A shuffle down the hall caught her attention and she shifted her narrowed eyes to the doorway, a dispassionate Leandro looking through, his gaze snagging only briefly on where Taellia had pinned Kitar before moving on to the bowl of cereal slowly making an even larger mess on the floor.

“He’s a coward, not a traitor.” He sighed, icy eyes tracking the progress of the cereal with an almost longing eye before flicking that unsettling gaze to Taellia, “His family, the people you speak of, are the ones who sent him here to be wed to me. They knew it would result in his death. But such is the way of the Clan of the Tiger. Kitar called for aid to end the war and they punished him for it.”

“You knew about that?”

“Of course I did.” Leandro sighed, “I have no interest in your blood upon my hands. I would have simply walked if we hadn’t taken the diplomatic out.”

“Why?”

“There was honor in what you did. You might still be an irredeemable coward but I no longer desire to take your life for it.”

“As heartwarming as this whole exchange is, I’m waiting for you to explain yourself.” Taellia interjected, ribbons twitching enough to scoot Kitar a few more inches up the wall, “How is this for the best? We just destroyed a portion of the Palace to help these Paladins escape! Getting them captured was the last thing on my agenda!”

“I just meant that Voltron was already trying for the base on this planet!” Kitar coughed, “It’s the only outpost here and if anything, that’s where they’ll be taken. It would give them the opportunity to meet up with rest of their team!”

Taellia’s anger dissolved at that and she let Kitar down from where she had pinned him, Leandro’s calm stare watching the entire thing. “My apologies.”

“I understand your suspicions.” Kitar wheezed, sitting at the base of the wall for a moment, “But I am not my father and his decisions. Betrayal is not something I would pride myself upon.”

“So we’ve determined that Kitar is not a traitor.” Mira hummed, “We still need to decide on our next plan of action. The boys are captured, the Galra are here and our government is still in need of overhaul. The Chancellor’s death will throw the entire system into hell. We need to act fast.”

“Perhaps you should contact Voltron first.” Leandro suggested, “Let them know that we lost their boys so they don’t try to stop by here first.”

Taellia made a face at his suggestion before sighing deeply. “It would be a good place to start. But we still need to address the mess at the governmental level. The Galra have been here so long that we need to address what we’ll lose by losing the base.”

“One step at a time, then.” Kitar nodded, “Contact Voltron and then we’ll get back into the Palace.”

“We kind of blew part of it up.”

“Then the rest is still standing.” Leandro hummed, “It will suffice as a base of operations. Kitar and I are supposed to be the diplomatic delegation from Terria. We should be able to help you set up a martial law at the very least.”

Taellia gaped at the easy way Leandro said his piece, his eyes still following the tendrils of cereal as they spread out over the floor. “You make it sound so simple.”

“It is that simple.” Leandro huffed, moving around the mess to the fridge unit on the far side, “We only need to get moving.”

“He gets cranky when he’s hungry.” Kitar stage whispered, earning a sharp look from the man at the refrigerator.

“How are we supposed to contact Voltron?” Taellia groaned, “I’ve only seen the com that Keith has been using.”

“I may actually be able to help you with that.” Kitar said slowly, easing his way to his feet, “You have something that can receive interplanetary signals in this place?”

“It’s a Rebellion safe house. Of course, I do.”

“Cool. Let me see it.”

Hesitantly, Taellia led the others through the house to the communications base of the house, several chirping monitors greeting them as they walked through the door.

As well as a vaguely familiar face already up on the screen.

Taellia could do no more than tilt her head to the side, trying desperately to determine why this child looked so familiar to her.

“You guys sure took your dear sweet time coming in here. I had time to eat, change _and_ play havoc with a few systems.” The child smirked, “I’ve been waiting for you.”

“I see that.” Taellia said blankly, “The thing is, I don’t actually know who you are.”

The child grimaced for a moment before a definitely familiar face peeked his head into frame, distinctive scar stretching as he beamed. “Hi Taellia! It’s been a minute since I talked to you last.”

“Matt... What’s going on here?”

“This is my little sister, the Green Paladin of Voltron. We’ve been trying to get in contact with you for a while now.”

“Why?”

Taellia inwardly swore. Now wasn’t the time for her to be questioning why they were trying to reach her. She needed to tell them what had happened.

“Actually, never mind that. Keith and Lance have been captured.”

“Yeah. We just saw that communication.” The Green Paladin said darkly, “That’s part of the reason we were trying to contact you earlier. We wanted to warn you that they were closing in. But knowing Keith and Lance, they were doing something dumb and got themselves captured anyway.”

“They were arguing in an alleyway.” Mira added helpfully, the Green Paladin’s utter lack of surprise almost pulling a startled laugh from Taellia.

“Sounds like something they’d do.”

“Anyway, Taellia, we have another request for you if at all possible.” Matt interjected, his sister patiently scooting to the side so both siblings were visible, “We have confirmation that Haggar is in the palace. We need you guys to go distract her. If we have to deal with the base _and_ Haggar, the odds of victory drop exponentially.”

“Distract her how?”

The Green Paladin’s grin turned wicked and her fingers darted over the keys. “I have several algorithms that I can engage in your palace to basically keep her busy. But I can’t engage them from here. I need you guys to get in there and engage them so she doesn’t come flying across the planet. Can we count on you to get in there?”

Adrenaline surged up Taellia’s spine and she exchanged a grin with Mira.

“Yeah. We can do it.”

~~~~

Generally, the command room of the Libanis base was quiet, a few transmissions coming from Zarkon’s headquarters every movement. It was one of the cushiest jobs in this sector and Commander Callidas couldn’t ask for a better promotion.

Sure, some bases saw more action and therefore had greater opportunities for glory and fame within the Empire but Callidas was a simple man.

He had a good job with submissive employees and a view from his office.

There wasn’t much more that he could ask for. Not much at all.

He sat back in his chair heavily, thick boots propped on his desk while the peons hustled to and fro. It was a charmed life.

“Commander, sir! We have an encrypted transmission from Commander Warslek!” The communications officer barked, saluting the whole time she spoke.

“What are you waiting for? Go ahead and play it. It can’t be too horribly important.”

The officer nodded briefly before returning to her station and allowing the communication through the firewall Libanis’ technological geniuses had devised.

For a long while, the main screen of the commander center was unhelpfully dark. The communication came through at last, a strange cartoonish face with large swirl like glasses appearing in the center of the screen.

Callidas stared at it for a long moment, unsure of what exactly he was seeing. It looked similar to a few of the humans he had seen in the arena, particularly at the beginning of the Champion’s illustrious career.

As he stared, it stared to laugh. A strange chittering noise that made the fur on his arms stand on end.

“What manner of joke is this?”

“I don’t know, sir. But it came from Commander Warslek’s destroyer.”

“I don’t care where it came from, turn it off!”

The laughing stopped abruptly and Callidas turned his eyes back to the screen just as the familiar white armor of the Paladins of Voltron filled the screen, the child on screen remarkably similar to the cartoon that had just played.

“Checkmate.”

And the entire base went into blackout.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the plot thickens!  
> We're getting to the climax of the story here soon guys. Things are going to start happening quite a bit faster from this point on.


	6. Watch It Now, Here He Comes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moment of truth draws near and three groups teeter on the edge of everything falling into chaos.   
> The Battle for Libanis begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're building up to some major shit guys! I'm so hecking excited to share this with you all!  
> Enjoy!

Oooooooh, Kolivan was going to kill him.

Well.

Not really. Maybe?

He’d definitely be getting that whole “disappointed parent” stare and honestly Tiren wasn’t sure how he’d be able to cope with that. Maybe Kolivan actually killing him would be easier?

Tiren huffed out an overwhelmed breath as he flew his fighter back into the open hangar of the destroyer, a few sentries noting his entrance with their blank, impassive faces. The small device the Green Paladin had given him felt as if it were burning a hole in his pocket.

He almost worried that it might.

The Green Paladin may have been small but there was enough cunning crammed into her tiny frame for even the cleverest of the Blades Tiren had met.

She had defended her home without lifting a finger and appeared out of thin air after he’d inadvertently revealed himself.

The thought made him flinch again, hoping that perhaps the Paladin would keep that particular tidbit to herself the next time she saw the Blade’s implacable leader.

Not only was he jeopardizing his cover to plant something for the Green Paladin, he’d outed himself as a Blade by grumbling. The others would never let him live it down.

_Never._

He sat quietly in the seat of his plane, giving a brief thanks to the Lady of the Hunt for whatever hand she’d had in sparing him from what could have meant his immediate death. Every grunt in the Empire knew what it meant to be a fighter pilot set against the Paladins of Voltron.

Not every fighter could be manned by a sentry after all.

The Paladins were known to be merciless in their treatment of the smaller aircraft that composed the Empire’s fighter planes. Tiren had once seen the Black Lion take down an entire battalion with no hesitation, the explosions marking the sky like the fireworks he had once seen during a Festival for the Lady of the Hunt.

His cover as a Blade demanded that he get close but not so close as to jeopardize himself. It didn’t make it any easier to see them destroyed.

The shiny stick of metal caught the dim lights of the cockpit and Tiren sighed again. The Paladin hadn’t asked much of him. No more than what the Blade had ordered.

She hadn’t even killed the members of his squad that had infiltrated the Castle.

It still unsettled him how easily she’d reprogrammed the sentries to serve her. They’d done all the hard work, dragging the unconscious bodies of his squad mates and the lieutenant to the bowels of the Castle and cleaning up the mess. He still shuddered to think how she’d then had them walk themselves out the airlock, the robots floating aimlessly in space as she watched, the half-smile on her face more terrifying than the most intense intimidation displays he’d seen during his time in the Empire’s forces.

Tiren had every respect for Voltron’s tiniest Paladin.

It was why he couldn’t fathom declining her request.

She hadn’t wanted Blade reinforcements. She didn’t even need him to call headquarters.

She wanted him to go _back._

A grunt tapped harshly on the outside of his plane and Tiren jolted, sliding the top open so he could emerge, the grunt regarding him suspiciously.

“Report!” The grunt ordered, “The Commander called for a total overhaul of the systems of the Castle of Lions before your return. Why are you back while the Castle still flies?”

There wasn’t time for hesitation.

“Lieutenant Kadaj sent me back early to report complications in getting to the main crystal core of the Castle. For some reason our communication malfunctioned once we began our investigation. The low power mode the Castle was using is making it difficult to get close to the power core.” Tiren hissed, the rehearsed story rolling off his tongue easily, the affront he added to the words making the grunt before him quail a bit.

Green really had thought of everything and in such a short time.

Tiren almost held his breath as the grunt nodded, the story going completely unquestioned.

The grunts weren’t expected to understand what was going on. He was only sent down here to make sure that Tiren hadn’t defected. The Commander probably didn’t even know he’d returned yet.

Warslek was too concerned with lording his command over Lady Haggar’s head.

Tiren couldn’t comprehend why.

He’d seen her in action before. Keeping his head down had been necessary.

She’d broken many a Blade in the past. No Blade would forget what Thace had suffered in order to give them the opportunity to strike at Zarkon so handily.

He was too new to have the same inner peace and determination as the older Blades. If she got her claws in him, he wasn’t sure what he’d do.

If all this went well, he wouldn’t have to worry about it.

“You should probably head up to command then.” The grunt huffed, “The Commander will want to hear your report.”

“Last I heard, he was still talking to Lady Haggar. Is this really a good time?”

The grunt grimaced under his helmet, mouth turning into a deep frown. “You’re probably right. If the Witch hears about that, she’d probably teleport right back here to zap us all into weird zombie servants.”

The grunts _really_ didn’t understand just what Lady Haggar was capable of.

Tiren didn’t have the heart to correct him. Or to continue talking about the druid leader at all. She unsettled him at the very depths of his soul. He’d go above and beyond to avoid any kind of confrontation with her.

“I’ll go put a formal report together while I wait.” Tiren sighed, the extra huff to his breath not going unnoticed by the grunt in front of him.

“Reports aren’t all that bad.” The grunt grumbled, “At least you pilots don’t have to give them as often.”

Tiren couldn’t argue with that logic so he shrugged, pulling himself from his fighter to land silently beside the grunt speaking to him. The grunt flinched at his close proximity for only a moment before snapping a salute. “I wish you luck in trying to speak with the Commander.”

It was difficult being on an assignment like this.

He couldn’t get too close to the others, even if he wanted to. He had to remain apart just in case.

He would do what the Blade required. He was steadfast in his mission to take down Zarkon.

But he couldn’t help but think about the people like the grunt who had spoken to him. To Galra like him, this was a job.

A way to make ends meet for wherever his family had ended up after the Crisis of Daizabaal.

Not every soldier in Zarkon’s army believed in his quest for galactic domination. They weren’t innocents, they still carried out the orders handed down to them with impunity.

But they weren’t the monster that was Zarkon and his unquenchable thirst for the universe.

When the time came and Zarkon did fall, Tiren could only hope that men like that grunt wouldn’t suffer for Zarkon’s crimes.

Patting at his pocket once more, Tiren set off for the main communications core of the destroyer, the fur on the back of his arms standing on end as nerves fought to get the best of him.

He felt every passing stare acutely, his heart thudding on in his chest as he passed through checkpoint after checkpoint. Every time a sentry peered at him for even a second too long, Tiren feared that he’d been caught.

Trying to reason with himself didn’t help either.

He was a Blade. These kinds of covert espionage missions were his bread and butter. He knew what to do.

So why was this so much more terrifying?

Was it because he wasn’t on a Blade mission, per se?

What was on the metal stick that the Green Paladin had given him? Was it a bomb? Was it a virus?

Did she expect to take him down with the rest of the ship?

He paused inside the main core, the blink of computers and the gentle whir of machinery doing more to rile him up than anything else.

Was it bad that he was scared?

He wasn’t averse to putting his life on the line for the mission.

Knowledge or death was the Blade’s creed after all. He’d more than earned his luxite blade under Kolivan’s careful tutelage.

But he really didn’t want to die. Not yet.

He wanted to see the horizon of Zarkon’s defeat. To see a galaxy that didn’t have his claws gripping it so tightly that it threatened to suffocate.

As much as he respected her, the Green Paladin frightened him in a way the other Blade members didn’t. She hadn’t taken a life in her defense of her home but not because she _couldn’t._

It was more like she had no interest in doing so. And there was a special kind of power in that kind of choice.

He had no idea what was on this device.

A deep breath steeled him and he willed his fur to stop puffing up like he’d spent too long in the dryer. The Blade and the Paladins of Voltron were allies. One of their own had bested the Trials.

The Red Paladin had awakened his own luxite blade.

Tiren would trust the Green Paladin. Both for Red’s sake and in honor of the respect he held for her.

He strode forward over the metal plated floor, his boots making a thick clank with every step. None of the sentries paid him more than a passing glance, their own tasks consuming their robotic minds.

The sentries in the communication core weren’t created with combat in mind. It was the very reason why there were so many layers of security to move through.

They didn’t even falter when Tiren strode to the central hub, his clearance allowing them the luxury of ignoring him. The device in his hand was small and discreet and Tiren admired it for a moment before crouching and implanting it the lowest port on the hub.

People rarely looked both up and down, preferring to focus on what they could see without expending extra effort.

He could count on such laziness to protect the device the Green Paladin had given him.

Even with his forced calm, the heart raced in his chest as he turned and exited the room, sure with every step that he was going to be caught.

Moving through the base quickly, Tiren all but threw himself into his chambers, eyes marking the bunks where a few of his squad mates stayed. He wouldn’t have to worry about them interrupting and revealing him.

They were enjoying the hospitality of Voltron’s dungeons.

He crossed to the terminal in the pod center of the chambers and quickly connected to the effervescent signal of the Castle of Lions.

The screen remained unhelpfully black for a moment and Tiren tried to breathe through the anxiety that threatened to overwhelm him.

How was he ever going to convince Kolivan to put him on more important missions if he kept freaking out like this?

He wasn’t a kit anymore.

A chirp filled the screen and Tiren dragged his eyes back to it, startling for a moment when not one but _two_ humans stared back at him.

The Green Paladin and a human male who looked strikingly similar to her.

Siblings, perhaps?

“Did you get it?”

Tiren nodded his head in affirmative, still puzzling over the appearance of yet another human.

The Green Paladin followed his gaze before that alarming half-smile curled over her face. “Tiren, this is my brother, Matt. He made it here just after you left. I’m still waiting on contact from the rest of Voltron.”

“I see.” Tiren said blankly, eyes darting between the two.

She really had defended that Castle all alone.

So much cunning in so small a frame.

Perhaps the Blades would do well if she were to act as a consultant.

“Thanks for helping me out.” The Green One continued, unruffled by Tiren’s staring, “With the connection in Warslek’s ship, I can shoot a transmission directly to the base that will drastically increase my capacity in terms of taking down the base’s walls.”

“Why use Warslek’s ship?”

“Two of my friends have been captured by one of the Lieutenants down on Libanis.” The Green Paladin hissed fiercely, “And I don’t have the time to do it the way I planned. This way, I can have those walls down in a matter of minutes rather than the hours it will take to use my connections within the Libanian Palace.”

“Commander Callidas has two Paladins of Voltron?” Tiren frowned, brows furrowing.

“Technically, Warslek does. It’s his Lieutenant that picked them up.” The Green hummed, her small fingers tapping with amazing celerity over the keys of the board before her.

“You will need to act fast then.” Tiren urged, “Commander Warslek was the one who brought Lady Haggar to Libanis. If he has your Paladins, then she is not far behind, despite the commander’s distaste for her.”

“I got people on that one, Tiren.” The Green One smirked, the expression almost inspiring Tiren to smile back at her.

“Understood.” Tiren said with a salute, the older human laughing at the display.

And why would he laugh? Tiren was only showing his respect to the tiny human who would go so far for her home and her friends.

“Guess that military thing ended up suiting you, huh, Pidge?”

Pidge? What’s a Pidge?

“Ha ha.” The Green One chuckled, “I can’t help that I’m a figure of authority.”

Ah. That’s a Pidge.

The Green One was Pidge.

“I am honestly the proudest big brother in the entire galaxy.” The older human snorted, “How did I get so lucky to have such an amazing little sister?”

Tiren almost looked away. The familial ties between the two were strong and it made him ache for the ties he had built with his fellow Blades.

His brothers in arms.

“Is there anything else you need from me, Green Paladin?” Tiren interrupted softly, the two siblings turning those bright eyes upon him.

“You might want to get off the ship, Tiren.” The Green One replied, mischief clear in her gaze, “It’s going to be experiencing a mass of system failures.”

From the look in her eyes, Tiren didn’t doubt her.

He needed to get the hell out of dodge.

~~~~

Hunk was content to float.

Content to ride the waves of consciousness one at a time.

He wasn’t sure what had happened after their dive through the wannabe Death Star but for the moment he was content to rest, a soft comforting purr surrounding his unconscious mind.

It kept him grounded and he couldn’t help but reach back to it.

Yellow wouldn’t let anything happen to him.

She was here, her soft purrs in the back of his mind stronger than ever even if they were tinged with a wince or two of pain.

His pain? Or hers?

Probably hers. She’s the one that literally crashed through a quintessence draining orb.

He was worried he’d lost her when she went quiet. It was nice to hear her again.

Presences outside made Yellow curl around him tighter, even as she recognized her great Sister, the leader of their Pride.

Hunk could feel her worry. Was he that badly hurt?

He did his best to soothe her. If he was hurt, wouldn’t it be better for the others to find him? They could help. They could help both of them.

They were both worriers. Hunk understood that.

But if they were hurt, they needed _help._

Yellow relented under his deluge of comfort and logic, uncurling her consciousness from his for a moment before she purred again, something moving around him in a physical way.

“-nk!”

Were they calling for him?

“-unk!”

Shiro? He was okay?

Hunk felt his eyelids flutter and he groaned as Yellow’s emergency lights felt like they were piercing through his brain. Three fuzzy shapes hovered over him for a moment before they resolved themselves into familiar faces.

Shiro. Allura. Coran.

They were okay!

“Yes, my boy. We’re okay.” Coran sniffed for a moment, his hand cool on Hunk’s forehead.

“It worked?” Hunk croaked, voice slightly strained as he spoke.

“Yes. Whatever you and Yellow did, it worked.” Allura said tearfully, “Hunk, you saved my life. Alteans cannot survive without quintessence. The blocker would have killed me.”

“I’m glad you’re okay.” He slurred, a great tension unbunching in his chest.

It worked. His crazy, probably foolhardy, plan had worked!

“Is Yellow okay?”

“She’s pretty banged up, Hunk.” Shiro hummed, “But not as bad as we expected. The two of you did well.”

At least he didn’t completely wreck his Lion.

Yellow purred a laugh in back of his head. Hunk had said it himself.

She was _sturdy_. She’d be right as rain in no time.

Hunk’s eyes fluttered again and Allura put a cool hand on his face, her expression creased in worry. “Coran.”

“It’s okay, Princess. He’s got a bit of a concussion from impact and he’s going to be exceptionally sore for a few days but it doesn’t look anything else. We’ll have to thank Pidge for the safety harnesses. Without them, we’d be looking at a much different picture.”

“Buckle up for safety.” Hunk giggled, wincing a little when the laughter made his bruised chest throb.

“Will Yellow be able to make it back to the Castle?” Shiro asked intently, doing his best to hide his smile at Hunk’s half-conscious laughter, “I know she’s a little beat up but it doesn’t look like there’s any damage outside of her front paws and shoulders.”

“Yellow is a good girl.” Hunk nodded, “She says she’s okay.”

“Whether or not Hunk is capable of flying her is another story.” Coran said quietly, “I want to get him in a pod as soon as possible. Especially if we’re going to move in on that base.”

“Black may be able to help her along.” Shiro planned, “Don’t worry, Hunk. We’re gonna get you home.”

Hunk could only hum in agreement, Yellow coiling her consciousness around his once more.

He loved Yellow. She was always so happy and warm.

Just like sunshine.

His Lion purred in the back of his mind and he could feel his stomach churn a bit as she pulled herself to her feet, her flight a bit wobbly. Probably a few stabilizers out. He wasn’t surprised.

She had literally crashed through an entire orb shaped ship. If not for her upgraded claws and body armor, they wouldn’t have made it through the ship before getting caught up in the destruction they had caused.

The flight threatened to lull him back unconsciousness but soft, cool hands periodically patted his forehead. He could hear the foreign cadence of Allura’s words, her voice almost crooning as Yellow shakily followed Black’s lead out of the atmosphere.

“I am beyond grateful, Hunk.” She whispered, “If you hadn’t done that… If you hadn’t put that base out of commission, I would not be here. I thought I was going to die in that room. All while some self-important Galra Lieutenant taunted about letting me watch as they blew up our home.”

“Princess.” Coran huffed, “That Lieutenant did say that they were on their way to find the Castle. I’m sure they’ve already beaten us there if he was truthful about the scope of their forces.”

“If you were the one asking, I’m sure he wouldn’t have thought to lie, Coran.” Allura continued, never raising her voice from that soft, soothing cadence that was doing such a good job at keeping Hunk at ease.

The things she said were worrisome but in his addled state, he couldn’t figure out why he should be so worried.

So scared.

So why…..?

His eyes flashed open and he would have sat bolt upright in his chair if it weren’t for Allura’s deceptively strong hands. “Pidge!” He cried, “She’s there by herself! If they beat us there, she’ll be a sitting duck!”

“Hunk! Please, calm down.” Allura breathed, “We have to have faith in her.”

“Number Five is very smart.” Coran added, “All her little brain synapses just fire away. I’m sure she won’t give in so easily.”

The com clicked on with a crackle of static and Hunk almost held his breath as Shiro spoke.

_“We’re receiving a transmission from the Matt. Apparently he has an agent on Libanis and things went a bit weird with her._ ”

Hunk did his best to focus on the screen that popped up in front of him, Matt’s serious expression almost foreign on his face. “Hey! It’s good to see you guys again.” Matt greeted, brows furrowing farther when he took in Hunk’s state, “What happened?”

“ _It’s a bit of a long story, Matt.”_ Shiro interjected, “ _We’ll give you the details when we meet up. Right now, you’re closer than we are. Do you have visuals on the Castle?”_

“Yeah. Give me a sec.”

The video feed from before shifted from Matt’s worried visage to a view of the Castle, its normally bright lights dimmed to almost nothing.

“The Castle is in emergency power mode.” Allura murmured, “But it doesn’t look like there’s any damage to the outside.”

“Did they miss us?” Hunk mumbled, a headache starting behind his eyes as he forced himself to focus.

The screen flashed back to Matt’s face and Hunk felt his heart jump at how focused Matt had become. “Pidge was in there, Matt.” Hunk croaked, the focus on the rebel leader’s face becoming tempered with fear.

“I’m going in.”

_“Be careful. We aren’t sure what we’ll find.”_

“If we’re lucky, I’ll find my sister.” Matt snapped, the video feed going dead, even as the audio continued to transmit, “Come on, Pidge. Don’t be missing, please don’t be missing.”

Matt’s words threatened to pull a sniffle from Hunk’s chest and he settled back against his chair, doing his best not to move. His head still pounded and the soreness of his chest made all this talking a little painful. He was starting to feel the lines of bruises that crisscrossed his chest from the belts that had saved him from flying through Yellow’s eyes after impact.

He’s so grateful that he jumped in on Pidge’s plan to upgrade the Lions.

“Why was the Castle in low power mode?” Allura hummed, looking up from her position at Hunk’s side to meet her advisor’s eyes.

“Maybe Pidge pushed the Castle into emergency mode?” Coran offered, “It would be easier for her to make sure they didn’t make it to the power core. I’m sure she learned from what they went after last time. With all the backdoors she keeps installing into the Castle’s mainframe, I would be surprised if she could funnel any and all intruders exactly where she wanted them.”

_“Pidge is good at knowing her limits in combat. If she did as you said, it would have been a good way for her to protect herself and the Castle at the same time.”_

“She pulled a McAllister.” Hunk giggled, a soft noise of realization coming over the coms before Shiro let out a chuckle.

“ _If anyone could, it would be Pidge.”_

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.” Allura huffed, her arms twitching like they wanted to cross over her chest, but they remained on Hunk’s head, the coolness of her palms a welcome relief from the headache that started behind his eyes.

“Someone pried the hangar doors open.” Matt growled, immediately deflating the jovial atmosphere that had been building between the two Lions.

Allura and Coran tensed on either side of him and Hunk did his best to focus, wincing only slightly at how the effort exacerbated his headache.

“I’m going in now.”

They waited in silence, the subtle roar of Matt’s pod providing background noise. “There’s several fighters in here. Galra fighters. And a Lieutenant ship.”

Worry settled deep in the pit of Hunk’s stomach, the emotion definitely not helping with the dizziness and motion sickness he felt coming on.

_“Are the Lions in there? If they really got in, I don’t imagine that they’d leave without the Lions.”_

As heartbreaking as it was, Shiro had a point. If they managed to overpower Pidge, they wouldn’t have left the Lions sitting there. Zarkon wanted the ships as well.

“I see Red and Blue but I can’t find Green.”

The wounded note in Matt’s voice was enough to make Hunk’s heart drop to his feet, Allura’s hand stroking softly over his forehead even as her own expression was creased in pain.

“I hear footsteps.”

There was a zap and a crackle of static over the com and Hunk had to fight down the surge of hope in his chest.

Only one thing made that distinctive of a noise.

“Matt? What the hell?”

“Pidge? Did you seriously just zap me with your bayard?”

“You were the one sneaking around in the hangar! There aren’t any lights on in here! How was I supposed to know who you were in the dark?”

“You…have a point….” Matt laughed, his relief easing the worry that Hunk had held on to.

Pidge was okay.

“As proud as we are of your exploits, we need you to bring the Castle back up, Pidge.” Allura called, the com link with Matt more than enough to telegraph her voice, “Things have escalated quickly. There isn’t a lot of time left.”

“Trust me, I know.” Pidge grumbled, “I already have a few things in place. Now that Matt is here, there’s a few more things that I can take care of. How is Hunk?”

“A little banged up. Mild concussion. Bruises.” Hunk laughed, “Hungry?”

Without seeing her face, it was difficult to figure out what the sharp intake of breath meant but the soothing tone of Matt’s muffled words told a heart wrenching story.

He did kind of pull a kamikaze while he was on the line with her.

“When you feel better, I’m going to kick your ass for that stunt.” She sniffed, “And then I’m going to tell Keith so he can yell at you for trying to steal his thing.”

“Seems fair.” Hunk murmured, eyes fluttering closed.

She was okay. Allura was okay. Shiro and Coran were okay.

They were on their way to Keith and Lance.

His family was almost back together again.

~~~~

The hours since Matt had snuck aboard the Castle- and promptly found himself shocked for his trouble- had passed quicker than Pidge had anticipated.

There had been so much to do, so many people to talk to.

Every moment that ticked past was another moment that Keith and Lance were in enemy hands and Pidge was done with having her family separated.

She’d done what she could up until now.

She could only wait for her efforts to bear fruit. The communication she had sent via Warslek’s ship was on its way to the base, the exceptional amount of security making it difficult for the communication to just glide through.

It was risky but she didn’t have the time for caution.

Her eyes drifted to her console in the main control room, the progress bar clicking away, her automated decoder dutifully keeping up with the workload she had assigned to it.

Either way, she was going to get those walls down. Taellia and her group were on their way to the Palace and she needed to have that access before they got there.

If not, they would be nothing but sitting ducks for Haggar’s rage.

The soft pad of footsteps caught her attention and she looked up to see Matt peek around the corner, a soft smile pulling at her brother’s face when he caught her gaze.

“Hey. How’s it coming?”

“Slow progress, especially without Hunk here to split the load.” Pidge huffed, settling heavily back into her chair, “I’m really glad he’s alright though.”

“What did he even do? I don’t know if I’ve ever heard you threaten Hunk like that.”

“He and his Lion pulled this incredibly reckless kamikaze stunt.” Pidge barked, “He basically drove the Yellow Lion through a Galra station that was blocking quintessence. Some kind of druid project if that Lieutenant can be believed.”

“Speaking of, what do you plan to do with your…guests, in the dungeon?” Matt coughed, a bit of stern questioning in his gaze.

“Figured I’d let Allura deal with that.” Pidge shrugged, “It’s her Castle.”

A blip moved across the screen and Pidge felt the tension in her shoulders leave in a rush.

Black and Yellow were entering the hangar now.

“Are you just going to sit there and stare at their dots?” Matt teased, dancing a little from side to side as he stood in the doorway, “I’m sure they’re waiting for you. You gave us a scare too.”

“I scared myself to be honest.” Pidge laughed, jumping from her chair to trot down the hallways, Matt quick on her heels.

She couldn’t deny the excitement that made her feet quicken, a singular feeling of happiness filling her as their return momentarily consumed her anxiety over the events to come.

The circumstances weren’t ideal and they were still missing Keith and Lance but Pidge was _happy_ that the others were back.

She hadn’t been lying when she’d told Matt that she’d scared herself. There was a part of her that had been convinced that her message to Keith would be the last transmission she would ever send. Staring at that approaching destroyer had truly _scared_ her.

She was capable and smart.

But she was rarely alone like that. Voltron had made her dependent on her teammates, even if it was only for the assurance that they had her back if the shit hit the proverbial fan.

She’d missed them so much.

Gleaming white tiles seemed to melt away under her feet, her legs breaking into a run when she caught sight of them.

Shiro saw her first, tense expression lightening into a soft smile as she barreled towards them. Allura only shook her head as she easily supported Hunk’s weight.

“You’d think we’d been gone for decaphoebs, Number Five.” Coran chortled, barely budging as Pidge ran right into him.

“I don’t think any of us enjoy being separated anymore.” Shiro hummed, exchanging a subtle fist bump with Matt as he ambled forward.

“The mind meld of Voltron has certainly brought the five of you closer than most warriors would be.” Allura added, exchanging Paladins with Coran.

Pidge let herself be passed along, stepping away after letting Allura hug her tightly, the ensuing pressure enough to make her spine pop.

She wasn’t usually the touchy type (honestly, neither was Pidge) but something about her seemed scared and fragile right now, even back in the safety of the Castle.

Pidge wasn’t sure if she wanted to know what had unsettled Allura so badly.

“There’s a lot that we need to catch up on before we launch our assault on the base. We need to get all our information situated so we can rescue Lance and Keith as well.”

“We don’t have a lot of time, Shiro.” Pidge huffed, crossing her arms over her chest plate, “Haggar is already on Libanis and Keith and Lance managed to get themselves picked up by one of Warslek’s commanders. By being themselves.”

Allura’s heavy put upon sigh was almost enough to distract from Shiro’s whole body flinch at the sound of Haggar’s name and Pidge couldn’t help but feel a twinge of regret for being so blunt.

“We have a distraction on the way.” Matt interjected, his eyes understanding as he stood by Shiro’s side, “They should be able to stall her long enough for us to get into the base and get Lance and Keith out of there.”

“Who did you enlist?” Allura questioned, giving Coran a subtle nod, “Even distracting her is an incredibly dangerous job. It isn’t one that we can bestow lightly.”

Coran moved away from the group, his arms supporting Hunk without much effort and Pidge couldn’t help but watch the loll of Hunk’s head with a worried frown.

Sleeping while concussed wasn’t a good idea, right?

She must have stared for a moment too long because Allura gave her shoulder a meaningful squeeze, the princess’s expression expectant.

“Matt’s agent on Libanis took the job….as well as the two Terrians who got mixed up with Keith and Lance.”

“That might not be a good idea.” Shiro said with a hesitant frown, “The Terrians sold us out to the Galra. They might not be trustworthy.”

“Kivarran sold us to the Galra after informing Libanis of Keith and Lance’s arrival.” Allura corrected softly, “The Clan of the Tiger betrayed us and betrayed the man they sent to Libanis to die. I don’t foresee a repeat offense.”

“You totally did that freaky apex predator shtick, didn’t you?” Pidge grinned, Allura smirking just slightly before she composed herself.

“She did what now?” Matt hissed in disbelief, some of his early love-struck behavior seeping into his gaze as he turned back to Allura.

“Alteans are shapeshifters.” Shiro explained dryly, Matt’s besotted expression immediately snapping into a startled frown when Allura flashed him a grin full of needle sharp teeth.

“Lance made the mistake of describing some of the more horrifying aliens from Earth movies when we had a bonding night.” Pidge laughed, Allura giggling slightly at the memory, “I don’t think he slept alone for a couple days when Allura figured out how to shift into them.”

“As entertaining as that memory is, what did you mean the man they sent to Libanis to die?” Shiro interrupted, his expression stern.

“The Terrian who reached out to us, Kitar, was punished for doing so.” Allura replied, the fury in her eyes igniting Pidge’s own, “They engineered some sham of a marriage alliance between the Oak and the Tiger so that Kitar would perish at Leandro’s hands, as their honor would demand.”

“So this whole clusterfuck ended up saving his life.” Pidge hummed, tilting her head to the side in consideration, “I’m glad that at least some good ended up coming out of it. The way they painted it, you’d think that Kitar and Leandro were some kind of fairy tale love story.”

She ignored Shiro’s pointed frown at her words, the expression enough that Pidge could almost hear the scolding about language.

She wasn’t going to apologize.

Clusterfuck was the most _apt_ description for this whole mess.

“Not in the least. The two were known for their hatred of one another.” Allura added, “But what I’m getting at, is that we shouldn’t worry about their loyalties. It is unlikely that we’ll see another betrayal from them.”

A shrill beep pulled them all from the lighter atmosphere and Pidge could feel Allura’s questioning gaze on her face.

“The decoder is done.” Pidge grinned, determination straightening the line of her shoulders, “If you really don’t trust them to distract Haggar, you have to decide now. I promised to pull algorithms in the palace to help them. I won’t send them in there blind.”

Shiro hesitated for only a moment before determination lit up his own features. “Do it. Do everything we have to make sure we get the boys out and take that base down.”

Pidge gave a cheeky salute before turning back towards the door, her fingers almost itching with the desire to unleash chaos in her own way.

There was a lot of it coming.

“How long do you think they can keep her attention?” Allura queried, her words making Pidge stop short.

Just how long _would_ her distraction hold out? She barely knew anything about Taellia’s group. She didn’t know their capabilities. Her own team could hold out for hours with her distractions.

But them?

What if they couldn’t even make it to the terminals to activate the algorithms?

“I’m not sure. If they activate all of them and do nothing else, it might buy us an hour. If not, she’d be on to us after only a few minutes.” Pidge theorized, turning back to see the concentrated faces of her teammates.

“That isn’t a lot of time.” Matt said hoarsely, “Can you get inside the base in that kind of time?”

“It’ll depend on what kind of security they have in addition to that fire wall.” Shiro mused, his concentration morphing into a worried look of contemplation, “Not to mention, we might be down another Paladin. We don’t know how long it will take for the cryopod to fix up Hunk.”

“Then I’ll go.” Allura said sternly, steel edging her voice, “This mission might not have gone very smoothly, but we will see it completed.”

“Okay.” Shiro relented, not willing to fight her on this, “Pidge, take it down.”

The grin that came to her face might have been unsettling in any other situation but right now, Pidge couldn’t help it.

This was the most fun she’d had in weeks.

~~~~

The hum of Hunk’s cryopod was overly loud in the med bay and Coran couldn’t help but frown. Hopefully throwing the Castle into emergency power mode hadn’t unsettled anything in the medical bay’s system.

A part of him wanted to go through and run full diagnostics but there wasn’t the time for that. He couldn’t afford to distract the healing pod from its work.

Hunk wasn’t in as bad a shape as he could have been but it still wasn’t pretty. Concussions weren’t anything to sneeze at. His ribs were bruised almost to the point of cracking in several places, the contusions on his skin from the straps a sickly purple black.

One ankle had twisted at impact, the tendons pulled and tender and there were hairline stress fractures up the bones of his forearms and through his collarbone.

He must have braced himself with the controls when he hit the ship.

They weren’t life-threatening and Coran gave thanks for that.

But they would be time consuming to heal and they didn’t have the _time_ to spare _._

Haggar was on Libanis. That destroyer was still out there. And they were down two Paladins, three if you counted Hunk’s current state.

The Alliance and the coalition had pushed far, far too hard this time. Voltron wasn’t invincible if you knew where to hit and unfortunately their enemies had managed to strike true in the dark.

If you hurt the Paladins, you hurt Voltron.

When they weren’t together, they couldn’t _form_ Voltron. And they were so hopelessly separated now. Separated and hurt.

Was there anymore news of Lance’s injury? Who was helping him?

Coran couldn’t help but pace back and forth past Hunk’s pod, worry swamping him. There had been few civilizations with competent medicine back in the days of Altea’s prime and Altea had outstripped all of them. Libanis had never been a medical powerhouse. Their healers were strictly trained and that worried Coran most of all.

The healers had always been at the beck and call of the leader of Libanis’ people.

That leader wouldn’t be interested in saving Lance’s life.

What would they find when they finally did rescue Lance and Keith?

With a vicious shake of his head, Coran pushed the thought from his mind. He had to focus on what he could do now. Had to focus on the _people_ he could help right now.

Hunk’s slumbering face didn’t hold any answers but Coran couldn’t help but be thankful that he and Yellow shared such a close bond. Her front legs had taken significant damage but her head was mostly untouched.

He could only assume that even as they were descending, Yellow had done everything that she could to protect Hunk.

Things could have been so much worse.

The pod’s hum began to taper off into a more muted buzz and Coran relaxed slightly, pulling up his tablet to monitor the remaining reboot diagnostics the Castle was running.

“Only a few vargas in the pod.” Coran hummed to himself, his relieved smile turning to a deep frown when he registered the five life signatures emanating from the cells in the bowels of the Castle.

They were _Galra._

With only a cursory glance to Hunk’s still face, he turned from the med bay, tablet forgotten on the center console.

How did they get in? How did they manage to get all the way down to the Castle dungeon? It was so dangerously close to the engine.

So very close.

He had to act fast.

Coran’s hands tightened into taut fists, brows furrowing as the elevator doors loomed before him. Should he notify the others?

No.

There was too much on all their minds right now. He’d take care of it.

There was a reason that Alfor had trusted him so greatly in the past, a reason why he’d ensured that Coran would survive the Galra’s assault on Altea.

He was the last line of defense for Allura. The last line of defense for the Castle itself.

The elevator doors closed in front of him and he braced himself for the drop to the bowels of the Castle, mustache barely twitching as the doors before him swooshed open.

A distinct crashing noise emanated from the cells to his right and he followed the noise, subtly altering his features to better suit him in the darkness of the dungeon. His footsteps made no noise on the ground as he walked, the shape of them shifted so better support his weight silently.

“Put your back into it!” A snarling voice swore, “If it weren’t for your incompetence, we wouldn’t be in this situation. Firk! Push harder.”

“Lieutenant, this door isn’t going to budge.” Another voice answered, the tremor in it more than enough to tell that this soldier was _terrified._

“We don’t even know how we got down here. Someone had to open the door to get us in here so the door _will_ open.” The lieutenant hissed, just as Coran turned the corner to see them throwing themselves against the door of one of the far cells.

All five of them were crammed into the tiny cell, a few of them sporting injuries similar to those the Paladins demonstrated when they tried to take on the Gladiator at a level that they weren’t prepared for.

Coran had lost track of how many times he’d seen those exact same injuries on Keith after a particularly rough patch of time.

It still didn’t tell him how the Galra had received those injuries or what they were doing trapped in the Castle dungeons.

Voltron had never been in the practice of taking prisoners.

There were never any prisoners left to take after they were done.

Judging by the fear apparent on grunts’ faces, they knew that.

One kept looking to their lieutenant in abject terror while another had dried food goo pulling his fur into uncomfortable spikes.

All in all, their situation looked incredibly similar to….

_The time Alfor’s AI had gone rogue and terrorized the ship._

“You clever, clever girl.” Coran hummed, some of the monstrous features he’d adopted falling from his countenance as pride for Voltron’s smallest Paladins bled through.

A bloodless victory on either side.

It was a difficult feat to be sure and he’d need to make sure she’d reset all the settings she had fiddled with in her desperate bid to protect their home but he was _so proud_ of her.

These humans were so much kinder than any Altean would have been. If he had been here, blood would have been spilt.

Galran blood.

But that did leave him with a larger conundrum.

What was he supposed to do with their prisoners now? The Castle had only the seven of them as a makeshift skeleton crew.

They simply didn’t have the manpower or resources to justify holding prisoners. Nor did the thought sit well with him. He didn’t have the time to bring it to the attention of the others but a part of him wanted to respect Pidge’s decision not to kill her prisoners.

Did _she_ have a plan for them? She had to know by now that the Galra were more than willing to let a captured soldier die before coming back for them. Even a lieutenant wouldn’t be important enough to garner a rescue force.

The five Galra before him were as good as dead in the eyes of the Galra Empire.

Honestly, it was a depressing thought. Four of the five looked like they could barely believe that they were still alive to begin with. What kind of propaganda had they been fed up to this point?

The Lieutenant looked like he had been mildly inconvenienced, the self-important glint in his eyes enough to turn Coran’s stomach.

What did they really know about the Empire that had been their entire lives? Was there hope for them? Or should they assume that the soldiers were as guilty as their emperor? Could they punish these men for the crimes of their government?

Coran pursed his lips as he stood just out of view of the cell’s tiny window, twisting one end of his mustache between clawed fingers.

This whole train of thought was a slippery slope and one that he didn’t know if he could follow through on alone. The Empire was pervasive. Millennia old.

It was the currency. The government. It was all many of these people had ever known. All their parents had known.

When their mission succeeded, what would be left?

The Coalition and the Alliance existed, sure, but what of the other Galra? What of those who didn’t fight for Zarkon? What of the children growing up in the Empire now?

His gaze caught once more on the four grunts within the cage, a plan of sorts brewing in the back of his mind. They knew that the Empire wouldn’t take them back after this.

They’d been captured. They would likely be put to death upon return if for no other reason than suspicion that they may be turned spies.

He could offer them a way out. A way to survive this whole conflict. Perhaps Kolivan would be willing to assist as well.

The Blade couldn’t be expected to shoulder the entire burden.

The Empire needed some kind of net in place to catch the fragments when they finally shattered the sick thing to pieces. The Alliance would be able to step in on some things but the Galra people would need something to turn to. People they trusted who had also been wronged by Zarkon’s machinations.

It wouldn’t be much now but the ripples from such a small action would spread.

He’d have to thank Number Five for her bloodless victory.

Hopefully it would lead to more in the future.

As for now, he needed to take care of their impromptu guests.

Starting with the Lieutenant.

With him out of the way, the others would be more willing to hear Coran out.

And he had quite a lot to say.

~~~~

Leandro looked over the Palace’s front entrance, idly noting the mass of soldiers and sentries milling about.

If they weren’t currently blocking his path to their objective, he might have been impressed with the speed of their mobilization.

The Galra Empire _certainly_ didn’t waste any time.

A sharp smile threatened to curl over his face as the long absent thrill of battle sang through his veins. He itched to test himself against them.

It had been too long since he’d truly had a fight worth exerting himself for.

“Mother, Crone, and Child.” Taellia swore viciously, the vitriol in her voice making Leandro lift an impressed eyebrow.

For one so outwardly small and demure, there was a wealth of fire and rebellion in her soul.

He could respect that…and her mate.

Healers were few and far between on Terria.

“Your language is especially foul today, love.” Mira remarked dryly, “Although, considering the circumstances, I can hardly blame you.”

Nigh silently, Kitar rejoined the group and Leandro tried to ignore the part of himself that seemed calmed by his return. “All the explosives from earlier have been taken.” He sighed heavily, the defeated note to his voice putting Leandro on edge, “Any other ideas for getting inside?”

Still a coward. Still content to let others make his plans.

“We take the entrance.” Leandro hummed, the boldness of it making him grin.

Clearly these soldiers were expecting an assault of some sort. Why deprive them of what they prepared for?

“Are you frelling mad?” Taellia hissed, “If you go at the front door, they’ll massacre you, not to mention us.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t follow me.” Leandro sighed, “These soldiers are already expecting an assault. It is likely that every entrance into your Palace is equally as guarded. To get inside, you’ll need a distraction.”

“That…” Taellia started, her fire lapsing into a bright look of comprehension, “Isn’t a bad idea. But are you sure? These are highly trained soldiers. This won’t be anything like the warfare Terria had seen for the last hundred years.”

“I know.” Leandro chuckled.

And he did.

The very thought of pitting himself against the might of the Galra made his limbs quiver in anticipation. The thrill of battle that he had thought lost to him returned at just the mere suggestion of taking on the force stationed in front of the Palace’s foyer.

Terria’s war had long grown stale for the unyielding Prince of the Clan of the Oak.

He had seen all that it had to offer and he found it _wanting_.

When Voltron had been summoned from beyond the stars by the very coward sitting beside him, he had welcomed their involvement, if only so that he could test himself anew against the worlds beyond his own.

Needless to say, the Oak Patriarch hadn’t been pleased with his acquiescence to the termination of their warfare.

The plot to kill Kitar had been a punishment for him as well.

A punishment and an insult.

Arboren had known how much he had detested Kitar’s cowardice. Had known from the battle where they met. He’d been a boy at the time, only twelve summers old.

A-by then, routine-skirmish between the Oak and the Tiger. He’d relished the opportunity to prove himself to his father, to his clan members.

He’d driven himself into the fray and crossed blades with the third son of the Tiger, a small, slight figure who had immediately turned tail and run. He hadn’t understood Kitar’s actions.

But he had understood warfare. He lived for it. Breathed for it.

So when Kitar had run from him, had fled from the very sight of him, it had solidified his idea of the man beside him.

A coward. An utterly irredeemable coward.

Or so he had thought.

There were many things on this planet that had made him confront his deeply held convictions and a part of him was filing them away so he could dwell upon them later. Leandro had always proven himself to be exceptionally adept at compartmentalizing.

Especially when battle promised to be at hand.

But Kitar’s change had weighed heavily on his heart.

With his incapacitation at the hands of the Libanian assassin, it had been up to Kitar to take them to safety.

And he had.

He’d managed to find a way to ally them with the Rebellion’s contact as well as rescue the two Paladins of Voltron from the machinations of his own clan.

It was a series of events that Leandro could respect, even if he felt slightly insulted that he needed to be nursed and protected by _Kitar_ of all people.

He could have left him behind. He could have abandoned him to the poison that had taken its sweet, _sweet_ time ravaging his body to the very molecules of his being.

It was an experience that he had no interest in repeating.

But the fact remained that Kitar had stayed by his side during the whole fiasco. If their positions had been reversed, he was sure that Kitar would not have received the same mercy and care from him.

The healer probably had a hand in much of it. She almost seemed to have taken a shine to Kitar, apparently intent on breaking some of that cowardice.

Leandro wished her luck.

If two decades of warfare on Terria hadn’t broken him, one tiny Libanian healer wasn’t likely to have much in the way of success.

“You realize that trying to take all of them on is tantamount to suicide, right?” Kitar snapped, dark eyes alight with a fire that _interested_ Leandro, “You’re still recovering from a poison that very nearly _killed_ you, you’re unarmed, and you’re alone! Do you have some kind of death wish? If so, you probably should have put that out there before we got to this point. Would have saved me some time and effort.”

Aw. He was worried about him.

“If you’re so worried about him, you should stay and watch his back.” Mira interjected, her words making a curious look cross Kitar’s overly expressive face.

He’d always felt things so strongly. It was so easy to watch his train of thought pass over his face.

“I’m not worried about him!” Kitar growled, “I’m trying to get some common sense through that thick skull of his.”

Pot meet kettle.

“Time is running out, Taellia.” Leandro said simply, turning his gaze from Kitar’s fiery countenance to Taellia’s calculating eyes, “We need to make a decision and soon. The Green Paladin is counting on us to distract the Witch of the Galra Empire. We don’t have the time to dally on the questions of death when things need to be accomplished.”

“I’m not going to let you just jump into the line of fire just because you think we need to make a decision.” Kitar snarled, his anger at being ignored palpable, “These are things that need to be addressed, Leandro!”

“He’s right though.” Taellia huffed, her ribbons flicking in agitation behind her head, “We don’t have the time to debate the pros and cons of this plan. Every entrance is probably just as guarded and I didn’t have enough time to map out any potential bolt holes in the palace. We need this distraction.”

“What say you, Kitar?” Leandro murmured, turning his eyes back to meet Kitar’s boldly, “Will you hide or will you move forward?”

Leandro waited with faint breath, unblinking, unmoving as he watched. The emotions on Kitar’s face flipped quicker than Leandro was willing to decipher and he sighed heavily, breaking their eye contact first, taut shoulders dropping in defeat.

How disappointing.

Here he had hoped that perhaps Kitar’s effervescent backbone had seen an infusion of star steel.

But he was mistaken.

Without the Paladins here to impress, he was back to the same indecisive dawdler he always was.

With a heavy sigh, he pushed to his feet from where he had crouched behind the wall, the very top of his head visible over the ornate brickwork. “Very well.”

“What do you think you’re doing?” Taellia said bluntly, “You’re going to give away our position!”

“You’d best get moving then.” Leandro grinned wickedly, making for the end of the wall and the open space of the street before the Palace, “Like you said. It’s only me distracting them. I can only hope I live up to your expectations.”

“You Terrian bastard!” Taellia whisper screamed, ribbons whipping out at him as he passed, “We aren’t done here!”

While fast, the projectiles were simple to dodge when one was paying attention.

Leandro danced out of the way easily, recovering body still quick enough to evade capture at the hands of the tiny Libanian woman. He caught the eye of her mate, the healer giving him a dark look for a moment before it broke, replaced by a deep worry and disappointment.

“If you make it through this, we’ll need to have a long conversation about ignoring medical advice.” She tutted, short cropped hair sliding forward to hide her expressive eyes, “Don’t waste my hard work.”

Leandro could only nod as he passed, ducking once more to evade Taellia’s increasingly desperate attempts to stop him.

“Let…let him go.” Kitar said at last, Taellia’s outraged noise making a faint grin pull at the corner of Leandro’s mouth, “He’s the best warrior Terria has. If anyone could do it, he could.”

While he inwardly preened at the praise, Leandro couldn’t help but feel disappointed.

Kitar could be great. He could have been just as great as he believed Leandro to be. The other warriors of the Tiger had proven themselves to be ruthless and skilled fighters.

Kitar had been trained just as thoroughly as his brothers.

If only he would make a decision. He’d waffled for far too long.

“Kitar.”

He could hear the shuffle as Kitar snapped to attention, the action pulling a grin across Leandro’s face.

Just this once.

He could look back.

Icy blue eyes peered over his shoulder, matching the onyx pair boldly. “I realize your distaste for fighting, for warfare. I don’t understand it but I see it. I see the resolve that drove you to seek aid from a myth. But there is more to fighting than what Terria had shown you. More than what you have seen from me. Sometimes, one must fight. We _all_ have to fight for something, Kitar.”

Before he could respond, Leandro took off from behind the wall, the suddenness of his appearance surprising the sentries closest to him. Taking advantage of their distraction, he ran for them, tackling the nearest one to the ground and striking at the attachment points of the limbs to disarm the metal contraption.

Its blaster skittered to the ground and he grabbed for it, whipping around to land a clean shot to the center of the sentry’s head.

A brief whine accompanied its destruction and Leandro wasted no time lining up the shot for the other sentry.

He was no marksman but it’s hard to miss when something is three feet from you.

Shot upon shot rang out in the cacophony of sound that was the mass of Galra soldiers mobilizing.

He pulled himself to his feet and faced down the oncoming forces with a grin wide enough to hurt.

This. This was the kind of thrill he’d been seeking, the kind of battle he’d been _craving._

Every disadvantage was his.

His body was weak from poison. He had no reinforcements. No weapons aside from the ones he could steal. His people were not as physically strong as the Galra.

He had everything to lose.

Taellia and Mira would be depending on him to hold out long enough to gain entrance to the Palace.

But he didn’t intend to go down.

_Oh no._

He would take this front gate or take them all down with him.

_For Honor._

_For the Clan._

_For the Mother._

“Come and get it!” He roared, gesturing widely, teeth bared in the barest facsimile of a smile.

The soldiers yelled their own challenges even as the sentries lined up the sights on their weapons. He braced himself to spring forward when another body hit him from the side, knocking him out of the way of a sniper’s kill shot.

He and his mystery assailant rolled across the grating street, the pavement ripping at his skin even as managed to twist back onto his feet, another wall protecting them momentarily from the eyes of the Galra.

Kitar wiggled for a moment, trapped under one foot even as Leandro glowered down at him.

“I’m not going to apologize.”

“I wouldn’t ask it of you.” Leandro growled, “I only ask that you stay out of the way.”

Satisfied with his warning, Leandro stalked for his approaching battle, bloodlust just beginning to consume his rational thought.

“I want to help.”

That… That was new.

“Have my words finally made their way through your thick skull?” He parroted, turning back to pierce Kitar with his eyes.

“If by that you mean do I finally not want to see you die in front of me?” Kitar rambled, his words ambling, “I’m not going to let you go at this alone. It…it wouldn’t be right.”

“Did the healer bully you into staying?” Leandro sneered, hands clenched tight around his stolen blaster.

“No.” Kitar snapped, surging to his feet, an answering fire in his words, “I stayed because you’re a frelling idiot. And maybe I don’t want to see you dead.”

“An admirable sentiment.”

“Too many of our people have died in senseless battle for stupid reasons.” Kitar murmured, his words bringing a modicum of calm back to Leandro’s bloodlust, “It has to stop. I made my decision, Leandro.”

_Finally._

“I’ll fight so our people can stop fighting.”

A true smile curved Leandro’s lips and he pushed his stolen blaster into Kitar’s empty hands. “It’s about time. I guess we’ll finally find out if the Clan of the Tiger taught you anything worth knowing. Try not to shoot me?”

An answering grin spread across Kitar’s face and Leandro could feel something his chest clench, the feeling strange and oddly… _happy._

“I’ll do my best.”

“For Honor.” Leandro hummed.

“For Terria.” Kitar replied.

“For the Mother.”

“They’re over here!”

The sound of gunfire made Leandro pivot and he launched himself at the wall, arms screaming as he hauled himself up and over to throw his body like a javelin at the forces coming to crowd the area he and Kitar had rolled into.

He wouldn’t look back.

Now that Kitar had finally stopped waffling, he’d have faith in him to watch his back.

They would finally find out if they would make the team their mothers had wanted them to be instead of the enemies that their fathers had groomed.

Lady Flora had tried her best to instill the idea in his head but until now he couldn’t have conceived of it.

Leandro tore through the soldiers waiting on the other side of the wall, his body tiring far quicker than he would like. At one point, he managed to fell a soldier with a sword, the grip unwieldy but the blade deadlier than anything he’d ever held before.

He was in love.

It was an entirely different battle with his weapon of choice clutched tightly in his hand.

He mowed through soldiers with impunity, expert shots picking off soldiers that grew daring and sentries who drew too close.

Growing more and more confident in his victory, Leandro lost himself to the thrill and high of battle, the singular feeling of kill or be killed.

It had been the lifeblood he was raised upon.

The doctrine he knew like the back of his hand.

If Kitar was the gentle soul, he was violent spirit, the incarnation of war to Kitar’s peace.

He was fire and fury and destruction.

And he was proving every bit of it on the flood of Galra soldiers and sentries that tried valiantly to hold the front gate.

Perhaps he had overestimated the potential of this Empire.

Millennia without opposition had made them lax. Weak.

Or perhaps the teamwork he had with Kitar truly made the difference. It was easier to move through the crowd like a particularly deadly wave when he had someone to watch his back so thoroughly.

His breath came in short bursts as the troops retreated into the foyer, the remaining soldiers eyeing him with fear and trepidation. Leandro barely had the energy to react when Kitar padded up next to him, onyx eyes worried.

“This is enough. We’ve held on long enough.” Kitar whispered, “You just got out of bed this morning.”

“It’s cute that you’re worried about me.” Leandro gasped, giving Kitar a cheeky grin, “But I will endure.”

“You’re a stubborn son of a bitch, you know that?”

“I doubt your mother would think so highly of you insulting her best friend.”

Kitar snorted, turning to him with a cocky smirk. “You didn’t deny it.”

“No.” Leandro laughed, eyes drawn to the curve of Kitar’s grin, “I didn’t.”

There was a giddiness in the center of his chest, a happiness that had nothing to do with the thrill of battle and everything to do with the person who had protected his back in a fight that he had been prepared to die for.

Was this what those Paladins felt for one another?

It was strange beyond compare.

Before he could question the thoughts and their source, Leandro let adrenaline push him forward, his lips meeting Kitar’s in a firm press, the moment gone and past before either of them could really register it.

“What…”

The fluttering in his chest increased tenfold and he did his best to ignore the utterly stunned look on Kitar’s face, the sword in his hand feeling far lighter as he faced the soldiers ahead.

“Leandro….what the frell was that?!”

Their fear and trepidation had shifted while he and Kitar had bantered and Leandro could only brace himself, something in him warning of an incoming threat.

“Shush.”

A dark hood bobbed amongst the soldiers for a moment and beside him, Kitar swallowed audibly.

“You have some idea of what is coming?”

“The cloak is similar to some of the people on the ship with the Witch.” Kitar said hoarsely, “I think they call them druids.”

“Then I imagine our job isn’t done just yet.”

The druid finally sauntered out to meet them, white mask almost taunting as it stared Leandro down.

“So you’re the two making a ruckus.”

“We live to exceed expectations.” Leandro bowed, icy eyes sharp.

“Lady Haggar will be most pleased to meet the two of you.”

“Not if we have anything to say about it.” Kitar smirked, priming the blaster.

“A disappointment.”

Leandro didn’t wait for another invitation, diving forward, sword whistling through the air.

Then the world erupted in purple lightning.

~~~~

Taellia only hesitated for a moment after Leandro had launched himself from their hiding place like a one man wrecking crew, a stream curses leaving her mouth in a long hiss. Before she could turn to the other Terrian he had surged past them as well, his expression firm and determined.

She could only gape after him, meeting Mira’s eyes incredulously. “Trinity save me from these idiots.” She huffed, her lover only giving her a tsk, fingers coming down to link with her own tightly.

“I know this isn’t how you wanted this to go but we have to move.” Mira urged, pulling gently on her hand, “Quickly now.”

Letting her mouth click closed, Taellia let her lips thin into a firm line. “You’re right. We don’t have time to talk sense into them.”

Taellia took the lead back from Mira, their fingers gripping at one another as they dove through the alleyways near the Palace. For such a large structure, it seemed like it was ill designed. There were hundreds of approach routes with the way the city twisted and turned. The sheer fact that the Galra had found a way to make it even slightly defensible would have been impressive in any other situation.

The thought brought a wry smile to her face and she sighed.

She never thought she’d see the day that she thought anything about the Galra was impressive.

The prickle of Mira’s nails pulled her back to awareness and she squeezed back, their backs flat to the wall outside the Eastern entrance. Smoke still lingered in the air around the charred section of the Palace and Taellia could really _appreciate_ the level of destruction Kitar had managed to wreak upon the entire sector.

The gardens would grow back in time but the architecture was lost. The sweeping arches and marbled columns were eaten away by fire and blackened with ash.

A part of her grieved their loss but she knew. She understood.

Better they lose the architecture than the war at hand.

Buildings could be rebuilt. This area could be rebuilt.

But if they lost now, so much more would suffer. _People_ would suffer far more than the Eastern sector of the Palace and its glorious, burned gardens.

“It is fortunate he avoided the medicinal gardens.” Maia said quietly, “Some of those plants will only grow in the soil there. Many cures would have been lost.”

“Terria is short on healers apparently.” Taellia replied, “Even the idea of going near the medicinal gardens made him hesitant.”

“It explains their respect for me.”

“You deserve the respect of everyone, darling.” Taellia took the opportunity to tease, the two of them pushing through the half burned door, shirts pulled up over their faces to filter the smoldering air.

Despite their best efforts, their entrance was loud, the weakened façade crumbling with just the slightest bit of pressure. Chunks of plaster and rock fell as they worked their way into the remains of the gardens, the tromp of booted feet loud in the somber atmosphere.

Several pairs fell silent and Taellia held her breath, her grip almost too tight on Mira’s slender fingers.

“What was that?”

“That whole section is falling to pieces. It was probably a few pieces of the wall falling. Cool your jets, Hervor.”

The heavy thud picked up once more, silence falling back upon the gardens.

Breathing a short sigh of relief, Taellia pulled Mira along behind her, their passage through the gardens thankfully much, much quieter than their entrance.

“It is a shame to see so much of this plant life lost.” Mira murmured, one hand reaching out to a crumbling stem, “It tugs at my heart.”

Taellia smiled briefly at Mira’s words before alarm pulled across her face. “This doesn’t hurt you, right?”

Mira blinked at the abrupt stop, her eyes meeting Taellia’s for a moment before they lit up with realization. “No, Tae. Only the pain of people causes the oath to react.”

The healer oath had been an almost taboo topic when Taellia had first entered the Palace. The healers guarded their secrets jealously and it had taken an eternity to wiggle and worm her way into enough places that she was considered trusted by the head healers of the Palace.

It had merely been a facet of her job, another aspect of palace life that she needed to discover and infiltrate.

Of course, that was before she met Mira.

Taellia had been besotted on sight, the whole courtship process a long and arduous road. Especially when Mira was convinced the whole thing was a particularly hilarious joke.

Her pride still occasionally ached from that blow.

But thanks to Mira and her knowledge, Taellia knew far more about the healers. Including the oath that forbade Mira from doing intentional harm to any person. She could put someone out of their misery at the behest of Libanis’ leader but she couldn’t _harm_.

Mira was a gentle soul, even if she was a bit direct and acerbic to those who didn’t know her well. Healing came easy to her, almost like breathing. She’d never pushed her oath and even the thought of relieving someone’s misery through ending their life was abhorrent to her.

They still didn’t know what the Green Paladin had planned in way of a _distraction_ and the thought sat heavily on Taellia’s heart. If it was something designed to hurt the Witch of the Galra Empire, Mira would be powerless, the oath branded into the skin of her torso making her physically incapable of throwing any trigger.

It would be too painful.

She could desire as much as she wanted but any actions would be firmly out of her reach unless certain conditions could be met.

Mostly Mira’s determination to push through the pain but certain conditions like the patient’s needs could relieve the agony.

Taellia had seen other healers in the throes of their oath pain.

A soft prodding pulled her from her thoughts and Taellia gave Mira a wan smile, the healer’s concerned expression only deepening. “Something is plaguing your thoughts.” The taller woman hummed, “I can see it.”

“I’m worried.” Taellia admitted, the somber atmosphere of the ruined garden making her keep her voice low and hushed, “There’s so much going on that we don’t understand. So much riding on such a little distraction. I don’t want to mess it up.”

“You won’t.”

Love flared in her chest and she gripped at Mira’s hands tightly. She always had so much faith in her. She wasn’t afraid to call her out when she was being ridiculous but there was something to be said when Mira demonstrated her wholehearted support.

She was Taellia’s base, a pillar of love and understanding that had made even the most difficult days just a little better.

“How sentimental.”

The familiar nuance and tone of the voice that echoed throughout the garden made Taellia’s blood run cold and she stared into Mira’s eyes, her lover glancing over her shoulder and returning her stare with a disbelieving expression, face going pale.

“It’s very rude to ignore someone who is talking to you, Taellia. You’d think a guide as accomplished as yourself would have the decency to be well-mannered.”

“I watched the Red Paladin run you through.” Taellia hissed, keeping her gaze focused on her lover, determined to communicate as much as she could to Mira as quickly as possible, “As far as I’m concerned, the politeness of the living is not reserved for the dead.”

“You certainly watched.” Nazeer hummed, the soft crunch of burnt foliage betraying his passage into the garden, “You aided. You encouraged. You _betrayed_ Libanis, dirty half breed that you are.”

Taellia gritted her teeth, trying to will down her soul deep fury, Mira’s eyes narrowing at Nazeer’s stinging words.

“If anyone betrayed Libanis, it was you.” Mira snarled, fire in her gaze, “Taellia has defended Libanis. She’s worked to defend us from the Galra and from _your_ tyranny.”

“Ah yes. She certainly did. She protected all of you by ruthlessly working her way to the top, using and abandoning whoever she had to in order to worm her way into the position that should have been hers from birth.” Nazeer said cruelly, his words making Mira’s brows furrow deeply.

It wouldn’t be a shock to Mira like Nazeer intended. Upon the acceptance of their courtship and the first few rocky months of their relationship, Taellia had spilled everything but her membership in the rebellion. There wasn’t anything that Mira didn’t know now that the truth about the Rebellion had come out.

She knew about what had happened to Taellia’s mother, the forbidden relationship her parents had been in and what it had meant for Taellia herself.

Her father wasn’t a Libanian and her mother was the most accomplished guide Libanis had employed.

She stood proudly as the result of their union, the union that had seen her father banished and locked away, her mother executed for disrupting racial purity by the very man attempting to turn her lover against her.

“Anything I’ve done has already been laid at Mira’s feet.” Taellia murmured, turning at last to face down her uncle.

“So we see the reason behind your hesitance for my plans regarding the healers.” Nazeer smirked, the smile sly and twisted, his skin a mottled purple and grey, body held strangely.

Even if he had survived the Red Paladin’s assault, he hadn’t walked away unscathed. It had been an undoubtedly fatal wound and yet here he stood.

Perhaps the rumors of Zarkon’s Witch left out some details. Did anyone understand the depths of her powers? If she could bring someone back from the very brink of death, what else could she be capable of?

“Your plans for the healers would never come to fruition and you know it. You’d only succeed in killing them all.” Taellia snapped, Mira’s hands coming to twist in the back of her top, tension emanating from the woman behind her.

“That remained to be seen.” Nazeer sighed, sidling even closer, sickly eyes locked on the healer behind Taellia’s shoulder, “But if they can be so easily seduced, perhaps it is best for them to be eliminated.”

Terror immediately gripped at Taellia’s heart and her ribbons splayed out to the side in a paltry attempt at an intimidation display. The prehensile appendages were one of the gifts from her father’s people and while hers were weak and underdeveloped compared to them, they were her only weapons.

She was relatively small compared to other Libanians and Nazeer had trained with warriors long before he’d ever integrated himself into Libanis’ politics. It would explain the connection he’d had on Terria.

If Nazeer came after Mira, she wasn’t sure if she’d be enough to protect her. Until now, people had been caught off guard by the strength she exhibited but Nazeer…

Nazeer _knew._

And this was how he operated. He picked and poked and sneered, teasing out people’s fears and insecurities and he’d grasped hers and pulled.

She’d do whatever it took to protect Mira.

Even going head to head with the man who had so abusively raised her after ordering the execution of her mother. The man who had stolen _everything_ from her.

“Mira, run.” She whispered, her voice still managing to carry in the oppressive silence of the ruined garden.

How fitting that her confrontation with her uncle would take place in what was once a lush paradise of unlimited potential. Her soul resonated with the ruined atmosphere, chest tight and instincts urging her to run alongside Mira.

But she _couldn’t_. Not if she wanted their mission to succeed. Nazeer knew this palace better than anyone. He’d certainly spent enough time skulking about it.

He’d cut them off at every pass. They’d never make it anywhere near the terminals. The distraction they were supposed to be engineering would be ruined before they could even start it.

And she’d already lost the Paladins once.

She wouldn’t _fail_ them again.

“Tae, please.”

“Mira, go!”

“Yes, Mira, go.” Nazeer parroted nastily, “The chase is always my favorite part.”

Disgust mingled with her terror and rage, the cocktail twisting her guts into knots. She’d never let him touch Mira.

_Never._

Taellia pivoted on her foot, ribbons striking out at Nazeer even as she turned to face her lover. She arched up on her foot, pressing her lips to Mira’s fiercely.

“We need you.” She whispered against her mouth, desperately reveling in the way Mira clutched at her face.

“Don’t you dare lose.” Mira choked, pressing their lips together once more before tearing herself away and taking off down the hallways as fast as her constricting healer gear would allow.

Taellia only had a moment to wish her luck before a biting grasp pulled tightly on her ribbon, dragging her backwards across the ruined ground. She cried out as the crumbling plants raked at her back, her path coming to an abrupt end at Nazeer’s feet.

She flinched instinctively as he reached down for her, remembered pain dulling her reaction time as his hand slipped around her throat. She couldn’t react fast enough to keep him from pulling her from the ground, her slippered feet kicking weakly as he held her aloft.

“It has always been too easy to take from you, little Taellia. First your father. Then your mother and not to mention the position you should have inherited. Your home. Your friends. The respect others held for you.” Nazeer crooned, “And you’ll finally give me the pleasure of taking your life as well. It’s only a shame that it’s taken so long. I should have killed you long ago.”

She scratched at his arm, ribbons trying desperately to lash out at the man holding her. “No!” She gasped, “I won’t let you take anything else from me ever AGAIN!!”

Lashing out with her slender foot, she made contact with his stomach, the force negligible but apparently close enough to Keith’s wound that Nazeer cried out in pain, grip loosening.

She fell to the ground before him, scrambling backward as quickly as she could manage.

Her ribbons simultaneously helped and hindered, tripping her as she scrambled and pushing her to her feet when she fell. Her chest heaved but she stood her ground, ribbons flaring around her like snakes. “I should have known that I’d have to complete my mission personally.” She snapped, “Matt would be disappointed me in otherwise.”

She only prayed that Mira would make it in time.

~~~~

The pant of her breath was loud in the hallways and Mira tried desperately to pull it under control, wiping at her eyes roughly as she stopped just beside an empty alcove to catch her breath.

Every step she took away from Taellia pulled sharply at her heartstrings and she fought desperately to resist returning to her side. Her very soul screamed to return, to show Taellia her support as she took on the man that had taken every good thing in her life and twisted it.

He had tried his best to _ruin_ her, to spoil the beautiful, headstrong woman she loved so dearly.

And _she’d left her alone to face him._

She pressed the heels of her hands to her streaming eyes, tension shrieking across her shoulders. She had to hold on. She had to finish what they came here to do.

Mira couldn’t let Taellia’s personal sacrifice be wasted.

She would find this terminal and she would take care of everything else after that. Everything had fallen upon her back and she wouldn’t let this burden fall.

Kitar and Leandro were distracting the veritable army at the front. Taellia was facing off with her uncle.

It only left her.

Pulling her emotions under control, Mira took several long, sharp breaths, the motion helping to center her. There would be time for tears and panic later.

Far later.

Until then, she had a job to do.

Thankfully, she had remained in her healer’s uniform when she’d fled the palace to offer Taellia her aid. It wouldn’t help her against the healers who knew of her resignation but the Galra patrols wouldn’t know her from the others.

It would a modicum of protection if she were caught.

Reassured, she burst from her alcove, footsteps intent and her head bowed low. Like this, she looked like all the rest and even in this troubled time, it wouldn’t be too strange to see a healer hustling through the hallways.

Her heart pounded regardless, the ever-present oath inked into her skin hovering on the edge of stinging. Even considering harming another person made it threaten and she swallowed harshly.

Would this distraction cause harm? Would throwing this switch incapacitate her as surely as it would distract the Witch?

The Paladins’ forgotten com sat heavily in her pocket and she resisted the urge to run her fingers over it once more. She’d picked it up from the house before their headlong journey into the city center, some part of her convinced that it would come in handy.

And here she was alone in the Palace, closing in on the terminal, her tattoo beginning to pulse on her side.

She had to know. Her intent to throw the switch was enough to start the process and it scared her. If this was going to cause harm, her options would be limited.

Ducking into the alcove outside the main observation terminal, Mira pulled the com from her pocket, deft fingers clicking at the mechanism. Static sounded loudly for a moment and Mira’s heartrate skyrocketed, panic making her muffle the ringing noise.

A pair of heavy footsteps paused at the noise and Mira pressed a desperate hand to her own mouth to stifle her heavy breathing.

“There! Surely you heard something weird this time, Niris!”

“Hervor, we should get your ears checked when the Witch is finally done with this planet. You’re really starting to worry me, man.”

“Maybe…maybe you’re right.”

The footsteps resumed and Mira quietly gave thanks to the Trinity for skeptics. She waited until she could hear the footsteps no longer and took her muffling hand away from com.

“Hello? Green Paladin, I have a question for you.”

Static continued for another long moment and Mira despaired, flicking her eyes to the door concealing the terminal.

If she threw the switch without knowing, she would be unprepared for whatever came next. The wave could put her out of commission for days.

She had to know. She had to know if she’d be able to return to Taellia’s side after completing their mission. Would she only endanger them all further by collapsing from her oath’s backlash?

Would she do enough harm that her oath would lash back at her far more permanently?

She’d only heard of the phenomenon once before and it was a constant reminder in the back of her head. She’d stayed her hand when it came to the urge to smack some sense into the boys that Taellia had found herself running with and largely because of the tattoo humming threateningly along her ribs.

“ _Hello? How did you guys get this frequency?”_

“The Red Paladin left his communicator behind. I recovered it before we made our path to the palace.” Mira said in a hushed tone, slight relief easing her shoulders as she pressed her back to the wall, “Will this distraction that you’ve engineered harm the Witch, paladin?”

Silence reigned for a moment, the static humming lowly in the background.

“ _I don’t think we could avoid it. She’s powerful. Anything we use to distract her has to at least have the potential to hurt her or it won’t even phase her_.”

Mira squeezed her eyes shut as the threatening humming upgraded into a full on pulse of pain, her gritted teeth the only thing keeping a cry locked in her throat.

A different voice sounded through the com and Mira looked down at it hesitantly, one hand pressed to her pulsating tattoo. “ _Which of you is this?”_

“I am Mira.” She breathed heavily, voice tight, “The healer.”

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other side of the line and Mira peered at the com with one slitted eye. Did they had some idea of what they asked of her?

_“Where are the others?”_

“We had to split up.” Mira huffed, pain pulsing once more, “Kitar and Leandro stayed behind to distract the troops so we could get inside. When we got in, we were accosted by Chancellor Nazeer, the man we had thought dead by the Red Paladin’s hand. Taellia stayed behind to stop him. It is only me.”

_“I understand that the healers of your planet take very stringent vows. I hate to ask this of you but we are running out of time. If you cannot distract her, the battle may very well be lost.”_

“I had already intended to throw the switches.” Mira admitted quietly, the pain nearly blinding, “But…I had to know. It is one thing to cause harm and suffer the consequences when you are expecting it. To go in uninformed is to increase any problems.”

Mira took another deep breath and gathered her resolve. “How many terminals have to be thrown to give you the best chance?”

Silence again.

_“Three.”_

Green again.

The pain flared again and Mira couldn’t grit her teeth fast enough to hold back her cry, the pained noise echoing down the hall.

_“Mira?”_

“I will do my best. I know I can at least throw one of them.” Mira panted, “Maybe two. If I can still walk, I’ll throw all three.”

Raised voices in the background of the com distracted her for a moment and she blinked in surprise when the smooth female voice of before echoed through the com, command and poise in her words.

_“Throw what switches you can. I’ll be there soon.”_

The static cut out abruptly and Mira only stared at the device in her hand, confusion working its way through the pain muddling her mind. Just who was on their way?

One of the Paladins? Didn’t they have another mission on this planet?

Did they truly have the people to spare to distract the Witch?

Wasn’t that the whole point of their mission to the palace? Were all their sacrifices in vain?

Anger surged for a moment before she recalled the raised voices she’d heard in the background. Whoever was coming to their aid wasn’t someone that Voltron could afford to lose…..and yet.

She was coming to distract Zarkon’s Witch.

Taking a deep breath, Mira pushed off from the wall, the first few steps threatening to push her to the floor. She hadn’t even thrown the switch yet and her body felt like it was on fire, agony consuming her mind just from her resolution to throw the switch.

She had to do this.

They were counting on her.

Whoever was coming to their aid would need the extra time that the distraction would offer. She could give them that.

And hope that whoever it was could truly come to their aid.

Each footstep felt like being pierced repeatedly by a white hot poker and Mira grit her teeth as she came to the door, the handle turning carefully under her hand.

A few technicians still sat quietly in the corner and her heart pounded, sweat breaking out over her palms.

They didn’t have a plan for this.

The technicians didn’t even bother to look up as she entered and she took a few hesitant steps inside, eyes locked on the trio exchanging words under their breath.

She’d never been so thankful for the soft bottoms to her shoes, the material making no noise as she padded across the floor.

Please don’t look up. _Please don’t look up_.

She tore her eyes away from them just long enough to get her hands on the terminal’s keyboard, Taellia’s instructions before the mission replaying in her mind.

Just input the username.

_Pain._

Type the password.

_Horrible draining agony._

Tap out the code and press the button.

A whimper threatened to crawl up her throat and she waited patiently as the terminal in front of her opened, a secondary screen blinking with green text and a smiling cartoonish face. A garishly red arrow pointed downward below the cartoon and Mira looked down to see a tiny switch sitting innocuously in the board.

Gathering all her willpower, she threw it forward, the pain her body increasing to white hot levels, a scream gathering behind her teeth.

The extra screen snapped closed just as the technicians looked up.

“Hey! What are you doing in here?”

“I’m sorry.” Mira wheezed, “I fear I must have gotten turned around.”

“Dueren, give her a break. The Witch must have gotten to her. They’ve all been trembling like that.”

Horror surged through Mira’s veins even as she forced herself to nod.

The Witch was forcing the other healers into a state like this?

“Maybe she shouldn’t have put them on trying to heal the Chancellor. Most of them wanted nothing more than to see him dead.”

Worse and worse.

“Take it easy, healer.” Dueren hummed, putting a gentle hand to her back and guiding her from the room, “A few more doors down and on the left. The others are probably waiting for you. We don’t blame any of you.”

Mira could scarcely believe her luck as the door shut behind her, the pain pulsing through her body enough to black out her vision at the corners.

The shock only stilled her for a moment and she buckled down once more.

One down, two to go.

~~~~

Lance met the floor of the cell with a sharp thud, the extra rough handling in no way helping the sluggishly bleeding wound at his side. A groan pulled itself from his throat when one guard pressed a knee to the center of his back, a blaster pinning his torso to the floor.

“Take the weapon.” The guard barked, free hand patting down Lance’s top.

“Buy a guy dinner first, why don’t you?” Lance snapped, almost biting his tongue when the guard smacked the blaster against his shoulder blades, the action bouncing Lance’s head off the hard floor.

“Clearly you two aren’t dinner people.” Lance tried again, spitting out a glob of blood from where his face smacked into the ground, “Watch the goods!”

The guard with his bayard gave a sardonic laugh, nudging at Lance with one foot. “That’s probably good enough, Elkiel. Leave this one.”

Side throbbing, Lance kept his mouth shut as the guards made their way out of his cell, the door slamming shut behind them. He could hear a scuffle in the cell just beside his, a thin gap at the bottom of the wall between the cells letting him listen in.

“Verner, hold him down already would you?” The cocky guard, Elkiel, hissed, “Damn, we’d heard the Red Paladin was a handful but you’re going above and beyond.”

“Get your hands off of me.” Keith snarled, the promise of vengeance in his words.

“Sorry, kid, but there’s no way we’re gonna leave you that fancy weapon. You either give it up easy or we take it.”

The scuffle continued and Lance inched his way across the hard floor towards the gap. If he laid down flat, he’d probably be able to wiggle his arm through to the other side but it sat too low to the ground for him to really be able to see much of anything.

He couldn’t see what Keith was doing. And that worried him.

Keith made impulsive, _stupid_ decisions when he was left on his own.

Like _trying to fucking leave him behind._

Hurt still pulsed at the core of his being at the very thought and he laid heavily on the floor of his cell, reopened wound sending pangs up his side with every shift.

Phantom sensations of blows to his back made him flinch into the floor and he glared at the gap between the rooms furiously.

Just what was that? Why was he feeling something that was happening to Keith?

What didn’t he know?

There was still so much time missing, and it was killing him. Something must have happened in the time he’d been out, something horrible. It would explain why the flirty Keith he’d seen in the hallway had somehow morphed into this _scared_ , closed off version.

The Keith he’d seen in that hallway, the one who had tempted him so sorely just by running his hands through his hair and the one he’d woken up to, he missed them. A part of him missed that playfulness and freedom.

But he understood that he didn’t have the whole story.

Maybe Keith really did have a reason for pushing them apart.

Even if it tore at his heart, the heart that had belonged to Keith from even before this whole fiasco out in space.

He’d hear him out. He had to.

If it was just Keith being stubborn and self-sacrificing, he’d push back. He’d never stop fighting to help Keith see how _great_ they’d be together.

But…if there was a _reason_ , Lance wouldn’t be that cruel.

He would respect Keith’s efforts and…

He’d back off.

Grimacing at the effort, he turned onto his back, eyes fixed on the ceiling as the very thought wrenched at his heartstrings. He’d loved Keith this long, loved him through arguments and near-death experiences.

He’d loved him through the revelation of his heritage and through the first time he’d tried to abandon them all for the _greater good._

He’d loved him even when they thought they’d lost him to the explosion Thace had set off and he’d loved every stubborn inch of him that thought trying to 1v1 Zarkon was a good idea.

Which was why he’d hear him out.

It wasn’t like they were going to be interrupted this time. Plus, he’d had some time to cool off from his upset regarding Keith’s attempt to run away.

“So how bad did he hurt you?”

The sound of Keith’s voice made him jump and he barely managed to lock a hiss behind his teeth.

He chanced a look at the front of his shirt, frowning at the slowly spreading splotch of red. “Not too bad.” He lied, turning his eyes to the wall that separated him from the boy he loved.

“Bullshit.” Keith huffed, a fwump sounding from the other side of the wall, “I can feel it.”

( _I didn’t want you to hurt anymore.)_

His voice sounded a bit stronger after that and Lance suppressed the urge to worm his arm under the wall. Keith’s words registered and he frowned deeply.

“What do you mean you can feel it?”

( _I can feel how much it hurts.)_

“The second ceremony.” Keith sighed, a note of anger in his voice, “It was the mind bond. You were a bit out of it so I don’t blame you for not really remembering. Nazeer went into it with the intent to fuck the whole thing up. He bridged our pain. So I can feel every pang in that wound in your side. Every single one.”

( _I’m so sorry.)_

“What are you sorry for? It’s not your fault that Nazeer was a prick bastard.” Lance murmured, resignation curling through his voice, “I shouldn’t have tried to hide it.”

“You’re pretty bad about that.”

“Pot meet kettle.”

“I don’t hide injuries.”

“Maris Galaxy. If I remember correctly, someone decided to pass off a broken arm as nothing.” Lance rebutted, giving the wall a stern look.

It wasn’t the same as giving Keith the look but it made him feel a little bit better.

“Sorry, don’t remember. Didn’t happen.” Keith parroted, the words pulling an outraged shriek from Lance.

“My own words turned against me.” Lance whined dramatically, “Whatever will I do.”

Keith’s small chuckle made Lance smile and his fingertips brushed the edge of the gap. It would be so easy to just reach through, especially with how long his arms were. Some part of his mind cried out for contact with Keith but he pushed it down viciously.

There was some talking that needed to be done before he could try that.

“So care to share what scared you so bad while I was unconscious that you decided running away was the best choice?”

Silence greeted him for a moment and Lance mentally held his breath.

( _I almost lost you.)_

“Lance…”

“We aren’t gonna get a better chance than this, mullet.” Lance said bluntly, “We may as well take this opportunity.”

( _Seeing you so sick, so helpless. I couldn’t do anything.)_

“What do you mean sick?”

“Lance, what are you talking about? I didn’t say anything.” Keith hissed, frustration evident in his voice.

“But I heard…..you.” Lance whispered, eyes going wide.

Oh.

_Oh._

_He was hearing Keith’s thoughts._

“The fuck you mean you’re hearing my thoughts?”

Guess that went both ways.

Ha. Both ways.

“Guess more than pain was bridged, huh?” Lance said with a harsh laugh, a little bit of panic in his voice.

What did this mean for them? Was he hearing all of Keith’s thoughts? Or just the ones he was projecting enough for Lance to hear them?

“Oh. Okay, I see what you mean. Your brain is really loud, please chill.” Keith breathed.

( _Well, this is embarrassing.)_

“I gotta agree with you there.”

“Stop answering my thoughts out loud!”

“I can’t help it!” Lance grumbled, “It’s hard to differentiate!”

Silence fell between them again and Lance perked up when Keith breathed out a heavy breath. “It…it was hard after we found out that you’d been attacked. Mira said you’d been lucky, that it missed your organs and that the poison wouldn’t take you that fast.”

Lance held his breath as Keith’s voice shuddered, the urge to slide his arm through the gap increasing.

“Nazeer was going to let you _die._ I…Lance, I couldn’t do anything!” Keith gasped, “I’d distracted you in the hallway. With…with the flirting. And then you were hurt.”

Lance could only stare at the ceiling of his cell for a moment before he let his breath out slowly. “So you were flirting on purpose. That’s good to know.”

“You would focus on that.”

“Is that it, Keith?” Lance said quietly, “You feel responsible for what happened?”

“It _was_ my fault!”

“Kind overestimating yourself there, aren’t you?” Lance said sharply, “You don’t think I’ve been distracted by you before?”

“What?”

( _Before? How many times have I endangered him?)_

“Yeah, stop that train of thought right there. I’ve been in love with you for a long time, Samurai.” Lance hummed, “It definitely wasn’t the last time I’ve been distracted by you and it certainly won’t be the last.”

“Lance…we can’t.”

“And for the record, when the whole attack this happened, I wasn’t even thinking about what had happened in the hallway.”

“Huh?”

“I’d run into Leandro.”

“What?”

“He was being his usual self. King of assholes or whatever his actual title is. Was. I don’t actually know. We were talking. He was warning me about the fact that we may have been sold out.” Lance recounted, furrowing his eyebrows, “They got Leandro first. I had a chance to try to talk to the assailant. I thought there was just one.”

( _Fuck.)_

“The other one snuck up behind me. I was worried about you. I thought they’d gone after you too.”

“Taellia found me first, probably.” Keith said slowly, “Kitar had cornered me the same way Leandro did with you, it sounds like.”

Lance hummed in agreement, hand sliding under the wall as last, the relief in Keith’s voice breaking his hold on the urge.

He could hear Keith’s soft noise of surprise at seeing his hand, a soft shuffling echoing through the gap in the wall. Awkwardly, Keith’s hand grasped at his own, his other hand weirdly close.

“Are…are you handcuffed?”

“Apparently I was too much trouble.”

“I can’t see it.” Lance smirked, Keith’s answering laughter pulling something bright to his chest.

Keith’s reasons weren’t what he had expected.

Guilt and a strange sense of duty was keeping them apart.

Lance could work with that.

He breathed a slow sigh of relief at the feeling of Keith’s hands along his own, some of the pain in his side easing. Being connected to Keith like this was comforting and he let his eyes flutter closed for a moment.

Keith squeezed at his fingers and he let his eyes reopen, questions burning at the tip of his tongue.

“So why?”

“Why what?”

“Why can’t we try?”

Keith’s hands faltered in their grasp and Lance had to fight the urge to chase that firm grip. “We’re a distraction to each other. You said it yourself. I distract you all the time. If we aren’t focused, we’re going to get hurt. And we have to think of Voltron.” Keith whispered, the words sounding like they were pulled out of him.

( _I don’t want to give you up.)_

“We can’t put _this_ in front of Voltron.”

“You’re sending me some very, _very_ mixed signals right now, Keith.”

A huff of frustration left the other boy and Lance frowned. “Voltron doesn’t keep us from being happy, fly boy.”

“Lance…you…you don’t understand!”

“Then help me understand. I love you. I don’t see how that can be a weakness.”

Lance glared at the wall as Keith grumbled a stream of curses, fingers almost crushing in their grip on Lance’s hand.

“The mission has to be the most important thing.”

( _And I know I wouldn’t be able to choose the mission over you if you were mine.)_

“Keith.”

“This is why I didn’t want to say anything!” Keith growled, “I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to do.”

( _I’ve never felt this way before.)_

Lance opened his mouth to speak and then the base went dead.

~~~~

Keith snapped his head up in the sudden blackness of his cell, his cuffs powering down as the power to the base itself was cut.

What the fuck had just happened?

Were the others here?

“That was fast.” Lance said dryly, the softness of his long fingers curling around Keith’s tightly.

“Can you get up?” Keith said intently, hoping that the change would put their previous conversation out of Lance’s head.

( _Oh, I am not letting this go, mullet.)_

A pulse of pain over Keith’s side answered the question before Lance could and he hissed. “Yes, it hurts but I can probably make it to my feet.”

“Don’t strain it anymore, idiot.”

“Don’t call me names, mullet.”

“I’m still recalling a vow regarding slander.”

“You know what your hair is and I am utterly unapologetic.”

Keith huffed out a laugh despite himself and released Lance’s hand, the action feeling like he’d torn away a part of himself. “I’m coming over there.”

“Oh my. Scandalous. A gentleman caller in my darkened cell. Whatever will the warden say?”

Keith rolled his eyes at Lance’s airy words, denying the smile on his face with every facet of his being.

Why was it so hard to pull himself away from Lance? Part of it definitely had to be the two bonding ceremonies they’d been through but Keith couldn’t figure the rest out.

Was it because he knew his closely held feelings were requited? Requited and then some?

Was it because Lance was so dead set on fighting for the relationship he was trying to push away-despite how desperately his heart cried out for it?

Shaking his head, Keith centered his thoughts and went for the door to his cell. Without the power to the base, the lock was deactivated but it also meant that the automatic open to the door was also gone.

He set his feet firmly and pulled on the door, the metal groaning as he pulled it back through its tracks. He pulled it open far enough for him to slip through and into the dimly lit hallway, emergency lights doing their best to illuminate the cells.

Keith felt along the wall until he came to Lance’s door, the effort to open the door from this side far less than what he’d needed to open his own door. He met Lance’s pained blue eyes as soon as the door moved and he barely contained the urge to strike out as he startled.

Lance flinched anyway, a wry smile covering his face.

The dim light cast his face in interesting shadows and Keith found himself transfixed, staring at the way it played off the planes of his face.

“Keith?”

Lance’s half-laughed pronunciation of his name pulled him back and he stumbled away from the doorway, Lance following him out into the hallway. Of course, Lance didn’t stop when he came too far into Keith’s personal space, the closeness making Keith panic slightly.

This was not the place for this!

“Lance….don’t.”

The light in Lance’s eyes dimmed for a moment and he took a large step back, a lanky arm coming across his torso to grip at his elbow tightly.

( _You invite me closer only to push me away.)_

He didn’t mean to. He was just as much at war with himself as it seemed.

His heart cried out to take what Lance so freely offered, to drink deep of the affection and warmth that being with Lance promised.

He wanted it. He wanted it so _badly_.

But he knew better. He knew the risks. He knew what might happen. They’d distract each other. Get each other hurt. Hell, they’d probably interrupt Voltron with how volatile they were. Lover’s spats wouldn’t just endanger them. It’d endanger the whole team.

He watched Lance’s face, recognition passing over it for a moment and he mentally swore.

Had he just thought all that at Lance again?

Pain lit up beautiful cerulean depths and Keith barely stopped himself from reaching out to take Lance in his arms.

“Tell me you don’t love me.”

_What?_

His breath stilled in his chest at Lance’s words, hands half fluttering at his sides. “What are you talking about?” He snapped, pain creeping through his own chest.

“Tell me you don’t love me and I’ll stop.” Lance murmured, “If you’re that dead set on us not being together for the sake of the universe and Voltron, tell me that you don’t love me.”

He…he was giving him an out.

An opportunity to break his heart and keep the end that his mind desperately clung to.

Beautiful, headstrong, kind _idiot._

But Lance was right. He couldn’t have it both ways.

“I…” He croaked, fear lighting up the depths of Lance’s eyes.

God, he loved him so much.

“I…don’t…”

He…he couldn’t do this.

He’d been willing to do anything to convince Nazeer to spare Lance. He’d spent every waking moment at Lance’s side when he’d been fighting off the poison that had ravaged his stem.

He couldn’t lie to Lance.

Couldn’t even consider telling him such an utter _lie._

“I don’t…I don’t wanna _lose_ you.” He choked, catching Lance’s brief flinch, the small motion tearing even more at his tattered heart.

Did Lance really think he could be so callous?

Although, to be fair, he’d done nothing but push and pull at Lance since he’d woken up, his own inability to give up on the Blue Paladin making him treat him like a yo-yo.

Lance’s eyes fluttered open almost immediately after his flinch, fear and hurt immediately overtaken by a hope so gloriously blinding that Keith barely dared to breathe.

He didn’t want to do anything to disrupt something so beautiful.

“You know I won’t stop then.” Lance promised, stepping closer to him in the darkness of the hallways, “I won’t give up on trying to get through to you. I’ll show you. I’ll convince you, even if it takes me the rest of our lives.”

Keith’s eyes burned and he was fiercely thankful for the darkness that surrounded them. He really didn’t understand, this silly beautiful boy.

They were bad for each other. A hazard to each other’s health. Any relationship between the two of them would be dangerous, a potential weakness to the other.

He already spent so much time thinking about Lance, even when he should be focused on other things.

Like right now for example.

They should be working their way out of the base but instead he’d let Lance pull him backwards and they’d devolved into talking about the relationship that couldn’t be.

“Now probably isn’t a good time.” Keith said at last, doing his best to steer them back to the task at hand.

A wry smile curled over Lance’s lips and Keith’s heart skipped in his chest at the expression, the half-embarrassed sparkle to Lance’s eyes shining even as he looked at Keith like he was the most exquisite thing in the world.

“When we get home then.” Lance promised, “When we get back to the Castle, I’ll convince you.”

“It’s not going to be easy.” Keith whispered, hands flexing as he held himself back from the boy in front of him.

“Things worth fighting for never are.”

The words struck him hard and the stinging in his eyes increased ten-fold. “But…you know, if we’re going to be diving headlong into danger again, I’d really like one more taste for the road.”

Keith couldn’t help the way he cocked his head to the side in confusion, his heart threatening to thump out of his chest as Lance stepped even closer. For a moment, Lance stilled, worry creasing over his face. “If you’re not okay with it, we don’t have to…”

_Taste?_

_(Wanna taste those pretty lips one more time.)_

The heat that flared over his face was probably hot enough to fry and egg and Keith huffed out a sharp breath, eyes darting down to Lance’s mouth for a moment before returning to his eyes.

Lance wanted to kiss him?

_Now?_

( _No time like the present.)_

He couldn’t tamp down on the sheer wave of longing that swelled up in him at the thought, fingers itching at even the thought of feeling Lance’s mouth on his once again.

“Just one for the road?” He murmured, feet moving forward before he could really register the urge.

The soft pad of a thumb brushed along the curve of his jawbone and his breath shuddered in his chest at the gentle touch.

“It’s probably all we have time for.” Lance chuckled, ducking his head just slightly to compensate for their height difference, “But when I’m finished convincing you, we’ll see.”

A short laugh pulled itself from his throat and he shoved aside his protesting rationality for a moment and embraced the impulsivity he’d been so known for. He closed the distance between the two of them, his heart threatening to explode when their lips met.

The motion was ultimately chaste and sweet, their lips pressing together lightly. Keith let his eyes flutter shut at contact, the lids fluttering when Lance used the hand on his jaw to coax his head back, the kiss deepening.

He did his best to mimic the motion of Lance’s lips with his own, the slight friction between their lips starting fires under his skin. His traitorous hands reached out, fingers curling over Lance’s shoulders and twisting in the back of his shirt.

The feel of Lance’s brief smile against his mouth was weird but he could live with it as long as Lance kept pulling him closer, the hand not currently curled around the back of his neck wrapping around his hip to pull the line of their bodies closer together.

It reminded him of the fake position they’d put themselves in when they were first hiding the transmitters. It felt like it had been an eternity ago, not just four days.

Lance’s fingers squeezed once and Keith couldn’t help but think of how close they’d been then.

_This was so much better._

A small squeak of noise left him at the thought of Lance’s mouth hot on his neck, a reversal to the position Lance had put them in to fool the guard.

They pulled apart at the sound, a grin pulling Lance’s reddened lips into one of the most beautiful sights Keith had ever seen.

“May not be as hard as you think.” Lance promised, stepping away.

Keith would deny the whine that pulled itself from his chest at the loss of Lance’s warmth to the end of time, the Blue Paladins giving him a cheeky wink just as the lights flashed back on.

“I guess that’s our cue to get going.”

Frowning at the flippancy, Keith huffed and turned his head to look at either end of the hallway. He vaguely remembered how the two guards had managed to get them here but things always managed to look different when one wasn’t struggling against two much larger people.

“This way.”

He tried to ignore the sluggishly spreading spot of red on Lance’s tunic, guilt twisting his stomach into knots before Lance took hold of his hands and gave it a quick squeeze.

“It’s gonna be okay.”

Ever the optimist, this one.

The stomp of heavy boots made him throw a dark glare in Lance’s direction, the boy in question only shrugging and urging them into the darkened corner just out of sight of the hallway.

“Quit complaining, Elfiel.” One guard huffed, “We just have to check on them. The Red one is handcuffed and the Blue one is hurt. They’re not gonna give us any trouble. We just gotta keep them here til Haggar gets over here.”

“Verner, I’m not complaining.” Elfiel snapped, rubbing at his face as he turned the corner, “You didn’t get frelling decked by that half-breed.”

Keith couldn’t contain the grin that crossed his face at the whiny words. He’d do it again.

In a _fucking heartbeat._

( _Of course you decked them. What else would I expect?)_

“I don’t appreciate your mental sarcasm.” Keith hissed, keeping his eye on the approaching guards.

( _I appreciate your ass-Wait, ignore that!)_

A laugh threatened to sputter its way out of his chest so Keith grit his teeth, the resulting expression looking mildly pained. He coiled his body in anticipation as the guards drew closer, adrenaline surging through his veins.

Lance made a strange noise behind him but Keith kept his gaze forward, a phantom tickle starting in his nose.

( _I have to fucking sneeze.)_

“Don’t you dare.”

Only a few more steps. A few more steps and he’d have the perfect drop on them.

( _This is gonna suck so bad.)_

“Don’t fucking do it, Lance.”

“You can’t just threaten a sneeze, Keith.”

“Watch me.”

The tickle intensified and Keith nearly pulled at his own hair in frustration. What didn’t he understand about stealth?!

Fuck it.

Diving out of their hiding place, Keith flew in low, taking both of the guards out at the knees just as Lance sneezed loudly, a sharp flash of pain echoing lowly on Keith’s side.

A hiss rushed out through Keith’s teeth and gave the first guard a swift kick to the helmet, the Galra going limp as Keith limped to his friend and wrestled the blaster from his hands. The struggle only lasted a moment but he managed to get the weapon away, a lucky shot stilling its previous owner.

“You could have warned me that sneezing was gonna hurt so bad.” Keith said dryly, looking over to where Lance was giving him a pained grin.

“Didn’t think it would be an issue.” Lance gasped, gratefully taking the blaster from Keith even as Keith pulled him back to his full height.

“Any idea where they stashed our bayards?”

Keith turned back to the downed guards and frowned, two familiar shapes hanging lazily from the first guard’s belt. “In plain sight apparently.”

“These guards are really dumb.” Lance frowned, “I’d hate to see what kind of commander we’re up against here.”

“We can worry about that when we kick his ass.” Keith smirked, “Come on. I’m betting the outage was Pidge.”

“She certainly likes to make an entrance.”

~~~~

Callidas surged from his chair as the lights went out, the rolling contraption dumping him into the floor.

“What just happened?!” He roared, chaos erupting in the darkened command room, “Get that power back on!”

“We’re being locked out sir!” One of the techs yelled back, “Whatever was transmitted is frying the system!”

“Initiate quarantine protocol!” Callidas ordered, pulling himself back to his feet, “Isolate the signal and get this base back up. We can’t afford to be low power. We have high profile prisoners on site!”

“Oh so they are in there.” A disembodied voice laughed, “That saves time.”

Callidas froze, a line of vicious swears falling from his mouth as he jumped off the platform his desk sat upon. “Lock down the facility.” He hissed, “Voltron is here.”

“Voltron?” One of the techs shuddered, an aura of tension and fear coming to life in the darkened command center.

A vicious crash rocked the base from the far right side and Callidas curled his hands into fists, the lights flickering back on just as a crow of victory came from one of the younger technicians.

“It’s a temporary measure.” She explained meekly, shrinking once every eye had turned to her, “I managed to blockade her in a dead end in the code. We might have time to get a few transmissions out before the Green Paladins plows through my fix.”

“Contact Commander Warslek.” Callidas barked, “And get a missive to the Palace.”

“Sir, Commander Warslek’s destroyer seems to be rejecting all outside communications.”

Callidas resisted the urge to tear out his fur in great tufts, frustration pulling a deep growl from his chest. “The Green Paladin has already covered that particular escape route it would seem. Very well. Send the missive to Lady Haggar and mobilize all combat ready personnel. Voltron will not have this base.”

“Vrepit sa, sir!”

“For the glory of the Empire!”

The command room erupted in cries of loyalty and Callidas bared his teeth at the screen before him.

Perhaps Libanis wouldn’t be a dead end for glory.

He’d be regarded as a hero when he took Voltron down.

An excellent promotion indeed.

~~~~

The lights of the Libanian Palace went from an oddly peaceful blue green to bright red and blaring without any warning at all.

A hiss slipping from her throat, Haggar turned to the doors of the main venue only to find them barred and blazing with electricity.

Unbidden, a smile curled across her face.

It would seem the little mice who had been scurrying about had other plans than simply taking on the army at the gates.

This would prove _interesting._

She could never resist a challenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T-t-t-t-triple smooch combo!!!  
> Not gonna lie, I had not intended to go for a smooth trifecta and yet here I am. Exceptionally proud of myself lol.  
> Next chapter is going to be one hell of a monster as everything is finally coming to a head.  
> Update may a bit late seeing as I'm going to Holland next week and I'm not sure how much time I'm gonna get to write what with exploring and Season Five coming out that Friday!  
> I'm so jazzed guys!  
> Until next time!


	7. Sit There in Your Heartache

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the Battle for Libanis in full swing, a sinister detail comes to light about the base Voltron is intending to destroy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOOOOH MY GODDDD, I AM SO SORRY.  
> Real life has been a hell of a bitch these last few months and this chapter ended up having significantly more moving parts than I had first anticipated.  
> Also, its gonna be super hella long, so I made the executive decision to split this incredibly large chapter now. (Also, writer's block is a hell of a thing and I'm hoping that putting this part out will encourage me to get the second part done.  
> Please enjoy!

Once they’d dispatched the two guards in charge of their prison block, it was almost _too_ easy to move through the empty rows of cells.

A part of Keith was almost offended.

Sure, Lance was injured but they did they _really_ think that two guards was enough security for the Paladins of Voltron?

“So, I’m totally not the only one convinced that we’re probably walking into a trap, right?” Lance hissed, the heat of his breath right against Keith’s ear making him shiver.

Focus.

Do not think about how close Lance was crouched next to him.

Don’t do it.

A slight chuckle from the temptation beside him informed him of his particular failure in that arena. Viciously, he seized his wayward feelings and shoved them down.

This _absolutely_ wasn’t the time to be mooning over Lance.

But even though he should, he couldn’t bring himself to regret their “one for the road”.

Even if the remembrance made his skin burn and his stomach twist from the stress he was putting on himself to push Lance away.

“Stop that.” Lance whispered, an answered flush still dancing over the tips of his ears, “You can stress when we get home.”

A part of Keith curled happily at the idea of not only going home, but _going home with Lance._

Inwardly, he grimaced, motioning Lance to follow as they ran forward through yet another abandoned hallway.

Had kissing Lance really scrambled his brains that badly?

“Having me on the brain is a gift, fly boy.” Lance smirked, the expression enough to cool some of Keith’s more love-struck daze.

This.

This was the goofball he married.

“Do you have a receipt?” Keith grinned despite himself, reveling in the pout his response garnered.

“Rude.” Lance whined, his voice almost thready for a moment as a pulse of pain made its way through the reopened wound on his side.

Keith grit his teeth as he felt the phantom reverb in his own skin, setting his jaw in determination once he could breathe again.

That Lieutenant and their guards must have done more damage that he’d thought if it was causing Lance this much pain.

They were running out of time. He needed to get Lance back to the Castle.

_He needed to stop getting distracted._

The easy smile he had sported since his conversation with Lance faded into a hard look, his determination flattening his expression. He didn’t dare look back, a part of him all too aware of the frown sitting heavily on Lance’s face.

_(C’mon mullet. Don’t shut me out.)_

Focus. He had to focus.

He jolted forward again, intent on covering as much distance as they could before Lance would have to stop and take a breather again. They had to get out.

They had to find the others.

He had every faith that they were here. He just had to get to them and everything would be okay.

He just had to get back to the team.

Caution all but forgotten, he barreled down the hallways, stopping only briefly at the corners so Lance could catch up.

_(What are you doing?!)_

He didn’t have time for this mind bond or his feelings.

Lance was still _hurt._

All this time that they’d wasted- wasted doing things that made those buried feelings sing- could have been used better. They could have gotten out.

But no. He’d let himself get lost in Lance’s eyes.

Let himself get drawn in by those large soft hands.

Lost his reason at the promise of those lips.

This was exactly what he’d been afraid of!

He knew how obsessive he could be and Lance was almost an _addiction._

“Keith!”

The sudden hushed shout pulled him from his self-deprecating spiral, large familiar hands pulling him back from the corner he had so heedlessly skidded around. Miraculously, the heavily armed guards didn’t manage to catch his blunder and Keith could feel his heart thundering in his chest, a mirrored sound echoing through his back from where he was pressed up against Lance.

“What the hell are you doing, mullet?” Lance hissed, “You’re better than this. And before you get into another weird head spiral, I mean the whole shutting me out thing. We _are_ a good team, remember? If we wanna make it out of here, you gotta stop acting like I’m some kind of damsel in distress. I’m your fucking partner.”

Keith could only stare at Lance, a twinge of phantom pain crossing their bond as silence fell between them.

That…that was it, wasn’t it.

Ever since he’d seen Lance lying so still in that bed back in the Palace, all he could think about was protecting Lance from whatever else could hurt or distract him.

But…

Maybe Keith had really been trying to protect himself. Protect himself from the pain that losing Lance would cause.

“You’re not going to lose me, hothead.” Lance sighed, his earlier ire cooling, “I get where you’re coming from, I really do. I am kind of known for jumping in front of explosions to save other people.”

A quiet snort left Keith at that, the resulting beam from Lance more than worth the potential risk to their hiding place.

“We goofed. We messed up pretty bad. We let our guards down and I got hurt.” Lance continued, his words immediately sobering Keith, “But now we’re gonna fix it and we gonna do it _together_ , right Mullet?”

“You and slandering my hair.” Keith chuckled, a load of tension loosening in his shoulders.

Leave it to Lance to snipe right to the heart of the matter, the crux of his tension and guilt.

Sharpshooter indeed.

He had messed up. He had let his guard down.

But there was something soothing, something heartening about knowing that even if the entire mission had gone to hell in a hat basket, Lance was right there to pick up the pieces with him.

“You know what your hair is.” Lance smirked, bayard blazing to life in his hands, “Now, are you ready to get out of here, partner?”

Keith clasped Lance’s outstretched hand in his own, the motion serving to settle his frazzled nerves far more than he thought it would.

God, he loved this boy.

There wasn’t anyone he trusted more to watch his back.

“So do you have a plan?” Keith said dryly, turning his eyes back to the patrol he’d nearly run directly into.

“Not yet.” Lance hummed, craning his neck to peer around the corner, mouth moving as he counted under his breath, “But I think I have an idea.”

Keith watched with baited breath as Lance pulled his blaster up, face drawn in an expression of intense concentration. Even the rush of his thoughts had stilled, the throb of his reopened wound almost muted.

So this is what it looked like when Lance was about to make those mind-bending shots.

…It was kinda hot.

“As much as I love the idea of you finding me hot, I am trying to concentrate.” Lance chuckled lowly, his focus unwavering despite his playfully chastising words, “Relax, Mullet.”

A single squeeze of the trigger was all it took and the soldiers in front of them flew into a panic.

“What happened to the door?!”

“What do you mean what happened to the door?”

“The access panel just exploded! We’re cut off from the rest of the base!”

Keith gave Lance a wry look as the Blue Paladin smirked, setting his eye back to the sight. “Reinforcements are cut off, for now at least.” Lance relayed, “If you could pry one of those doors open, I’m sure they could too.”

“We’re kind of trapped _with_ them, Lance.” Keith deadpanned, the thrill of imminent battle filling his body with energy.

“I counted six guards. And I have a good feeling. A great feeling, you might say.”

“Great feeling about what?” Keith grinned, bayard blazing to life.

 “About me taking down more guards than you.” Lance drawled, finger squeezing the trigger once more, “Would you look at that? It’s already 1-0. Better catch up, samurai.”

A low laugh followed him as Keith bolted from their hiding place, a smile on his lips and muffled curse under his breath.

It was obvious what Lance was playing at but Keith couldn’t help but get suckered in. He loved competing with Lance, even in situations as dire as this one. But he had to admit, it was a good distraction from his previous worries, particularly his worries about Lance’s health.

He wouldn’t let Lance’s competition distract him from his goal, though.

Get him out of the base. Get Lance home.

( _You can take me home whenever you want.)_

He could feel a flush start at the tips of his ears, a feeling he ignored as he leapt at the nearest soldier, taking advantage of his panic over his downed comrade to catch him off-guard.

Keith slammed his blade into the guard’s side, the plates crumpling under his force and sending the brute to the floor with a clatter even as Keith swung again to finish the job.

There wasn’t room for mercy here.

They were outnumbered, hurt, and on one hell of a time crunch.

A blaster shot flew past him, downing another guard with an impressive precision.

( _Get your head in the game, Mullet. If I beat your ass, I’ll never let you live it down.)_

“Don’t I know it.” Keith snorted, jumping into the fray once more.

Two more guards fell to his sword, his blade barely beating out sharp shots. When the fifth soldier met the ground, Keith turned to look at the final guard with impassive eyes.

( _2-3. Not looking too good for this last guy.)_

The last guard bristled and growled as Keith drew closer, intent on finishing this fight and winning his competition with Lance when the boy in question broke cover to saunter up to Keith’s side. The guard almost seemed to hesitate when Lance came forward, golden eyes immediately drawn to the blood staining the front of Lance’s tunic.

“What are you doing?”

“Winning.”

At last the pieces clicked in the eyes of the suspicious guard and he drew himself up, fur puffing out like the cats Keith had seen on Earth.

“Paladins.” He sneered at last, his blade twitching as he seemed to grow even angrier.

“Overgrown purple chinchilla.” Lance returned with a smug smile, “Good to know introductions are out of the way.”

A loud bang startled all three of them as the doors began to groan, claws emerging around the side as they screeched along their tracks. Keith couldn’t help but jerk his head to the side, torn between finishing the fight and making sure the reinforcements stayed beyond the door.

That moment of hesitation made all the difference. He turned back just in time to see the guard lunge forward, the scene almost moving in slow motion. Sharp golden eyes locked unerringly on the wounded Blue Paladin, taking advantage of Keith’s slowed reaction to make his move.

Keith’s heart surged in his throat and panic clawed at his lungs. Every irrational fear and premonition he’d had the night before seemed to be coming true right before his eyes and he _couldn’t move fast enough._

( _Thought I told you to relax, partner.)_

A single shot rang out and the soldier slid to the floor at Lance’s feet, warm blue eyes turning back to Keith with easy grace.

“A tie. Guess we’ll have to figure out a tiebreaker later. I have ideas.” Lance winked, a soft smile on his face, “Come on, fly boy. You can’t really think I’d let anyone take me from you that easily.”

Keith’s breath heaved out in a harsh gasp as the panic he’d worked himself into faded.

That could have turned out so much worse. He’d never been so thankful for Lance’s quick reaction time and itchy trigger finger.

“How did you react so fast?” He asked at last, still a bit amazed by the speed.

“I never took my eyes off him.” Lance admitted, walking to the door and blasting at the tiny gap, a chorus of yelps and snarls answering him, “I was trusting you to have my back if something did come through that door.”

A part of Keith felt humbled at Lance’s admission but the greater majority was just too relieved.

Lance was okay. Lance was focused.

Now if only some of that focus would come back his way.

“Maybe I finally found some patience.” Lance laughed, taking entirely too much glee in answering his thoughts aloud, “Y’know, like Shiro says?”

“Patience yields focus.” Keith parroted, a broad smile pulling at his face, “He’s not even here and I’m still hearing that line.”

“Space Dad gives good advice.”

Honestly, Keith couldn’t bring himself to disagree.

The doors began to shriek once more and Keith steeled himself, inhaling deeply. He released the breath and gave Lance a small nod.

They would get through this. He would get Lance home and they’d take care of this godforsaken base, once and for all.

“How long do you think we can hold this door?” Lance murmured, a bit of nervousness in his stance now that they were faced with the potential of greater odds, “They’re gonna open it eventually.”

“We’ll hold out as long as we have to.” Keith huffed, readjusting his grip on his bayard, a part of him desperately missing his armor and the shield that came with it.

“Besides, you said yourself.”

A single questioning glance.

“We _are_ a good team.”

The crimson that effused Lance’s face was far more adorable than he had any right to be. Keith allowed himself a moment to appreciate the sight before turning his eyes back to the door separating them from the rest of the base.

There would be time to worry later.

“How sentimental.”

A shiver curled around Keith’s spine at the very sound of this new voice just beyond the doors.

“Commander, sir!”

Oh shit.

“To think that all of you have managed to be outsmarted by a door and two wounded Paladins.” The Commander snarled, “I’ll show you how it’s done.”

( _Is that? Oh fuck it is. We gotta run. We gotta run now!)_

Lance grabbed at one of his hands tightly, face drawn and pale as he tugged Keith away from the doors with all the strength he could muster.

“What are you doing?” Keith demanded, the throb of Lance’s wound threatening to steal his breath away, “They still need to pry those doors open!”

“He’s not going to wait that long, Keith!”

And then Keith heard it.

A soft ticking echoing through the room of downed soldiers and fleeing Paladins.

Followed up by a soft insistent beep.

_They weren’t going to make it in time._

Keith dove for Lance just as the blast ignited, the heat of it scorching his back.

They both hurtled through the air, bodies hitting the far wall like abandoned rag dolls due to the sheer percussive force of the blast.

Hitting the floor pulled the wind from Keith’s lungs and he wheezed for a moment before dragging his aching body closer to where Lance laid, his form terrifyingly still. He curled around him as best he could, wiping nerveless fingers over Lance’s bloodied forehead, his ears ringing in the aftermath.

Flaming chunks of the wall landed around them, the dust and smoke obscuring the room. The resulting miasma made Keith cough painfully and he tried to keep close to the ground to protect himself from the worst of it.

This wasn’t good.

This wasn’t good at all.

In fact, one could say that they were very much up shit creek without a paddle.

“I’m not going to lie.” Lance groaned, his voice raspy in a way that made Keith’s heart clench, “I love that analogy but I really wish it wasn’t so incredibly correct in this situation.”

Echoing footsteps cut off Keith’s reply and he pushed Lance behind him, ignoring his offended yelp and the pulse of phantom pain.

“And that, is how we open a stubborn door.” The Commander taunted, “Now let’s see about getting these Paladins back to the Palace. Someone is most anxious to see them again.”

~~~~

Green hovered above the base that sprawled across the lower half of Libanis’ main landmass, invisible to prying eyes and impatiently waiting for things to change.

Up close like this, Pidge could understand why the Coalition and the Alliance felt threatened by the base.

This place was fucking _huge_.

She pulled up the progress screen for her transmission, heart speeding in her chest at how close it was.

“How are we looking?” Shiro interrupted, his anxious face dominating the left half of her console, “Allura just left for the Palace.”

“Shields are down for the Palace and the second switch was thrown a few minutes ago.” Pidge relayed, guilt still chewing at her guts in regards to the healer defying her oath to make their distraction work, “We’re almost at go time, Shiro.”

As she spoke, the program to her right lit up green, her virus immediately going to work on the base’s systems. The cartoon laughter made her smirk darkly, an expression of determination creasing Shiro’s face.

“You’re in?”

“I’m in.” Pidge confirmed, grinning at the camera as the transmission opened, “Checkmate.”

“I’m going in for the distraction.”

Pidge gave a lazy salute as Shiro’s screen closed, the Black Lion emerging from her hiding place below the waves, red wings splayed wide before she dove at the west side of the base. She was laser fury and terrible majesty.

It was awe inspiring to watch.

“…initiate quarantine protocol!”

Oh, that wouldn’t do.

“We have high profile prisoners on site…”

“So they are there. That saves time.” Pidge laughed, appreciating the sheer scale of the explosion the Black Lion ignited on the far side of the base.

Shiro was not holding back.

Not that she could blame him, of course.

This whole situation had been a mess from the beginning, an immensely frustrating spiral of misfortune and betrayal that had them all chomping at the bit to strike back.

No, Pidge could understand Shiro’s feelings _quite_ clearly.

An alarm pulled Pidge from her musings, an eyebrow lifting at the messages flying across her screen.

Someone had managed to blockade her virus into a dead end in their coding. She was almost impressed.

Had she been alone that might have actually derailed their plans for as long as it took her to bulldoze through their defenses.

Lucky for her, she was far from alone.

“Matt! Are you there?”

“I hear you loud and clear, Pidge. What do you need?”

“They blockaded my virus. It isn’t anything that will hold but I need you to take over processing. I need to find Keith and Lance before we blow the full base.”

“I got this. Go bring them home.” Matt said cheekily, giving her a broad grin before letting the task consume his attention.

He would take care of this problem. She had every faith in her big brother.

Satisfied, Pidge let his line close, her focus captured by the base in front of her. Despite her virus’ stalled progress, she’d managed to download a blueprint of the base.

Yet again, the sheer size of the base threatened to make her whistle. It was almost excessive for such a remote, almost picturesque location.

Almost _suspiciously_ so. Just what was this base for?

A factory? A communications hub? Something far more sinister?

Curiosity made her fingers itch and she brought up two separate screens, multitasking in order to satisfy the urge.

Green only purred in the back of her head, amusement coloring the sound. She was always on board when curiosity was involved.

Good luck killing this cat though.

The thought made Pidge stifle a laugh, a clock in the corner keeping a close eye on the duration of Green’s cloaking.

She only had so much time before she and her Lion were sitting ducks, easy targets for whatever defenses the base still possessed.

Yet another reason they needed to know what was on site. Usually she’d have access to such information long before they ever departed the relative safety of their home base.

She grit her teeth in frustration at the recollection, resolving to call a meeting of the Coalition once all this shit had blown over just to give them a piece of her mind.

That is, if Allura didn’t get to them first.

Honestly, that would be something to see.

Shaking her head of that heartening scenario, Pidge focused in on the task at hand, eyes flicking quickly between the screens as she searched.

She frowned as two separate areas flagged for “containment zones”. And not the kind she was looking for.

What did they mean by containment? Just what did they need to contain?

“Uh, Shiro?”

“Yes, Pidge?” Came the tense reply, the Black Lion diving out of the way of several mounted cannons, “A bit busy here.”

“There are a couple of areas marked as containment zones on these blueprints.”

“Containment as in prison cells?”

“The prison is marked separately, Shiro.” Pidge said tersely, nervousness making her heart sit high in her throat, “I don’t know what they’re keeping in this base.”

A heavy sigh and a flurry of foreign words greeted her statement, Shiro’s face looking tired and drawn.

So much had happened in so little time. Pidge was feeling pretty drained herself.

“We need to prioritize finding Keith and Lance.” Shiro huffed, “Once they’re safe, we can focus on what else this base holds.”

Pidge couldn’t fault his logic. Without Lance and Keith, they were down three Paladins. They just didn’t have the manpower to look into this while their teammates were in such grave danger.

Making up her mind, Pidge pulled Green into a steep dive, shooting down several roof-mounted cannons as she passed.

No sense in letting Shiro have _all_ the fun.

She followed the blueprints as best she could while avoiding the topography of the roof and the base’s defenses.

Drawing as close to the prison block as she dared, Pidge hid the Green Lion in the shadow of a temperature regulation unit and used Green’s tail laser to blast a small hole over where the ventilation shaft was marked on the blueprints.

It wasn’t the stealthiest entrance she’d ever made but time was of the essence.

Jumping from Green’s jaws, Pidge lowered herself into the ceiling with her jet pack and crawled through the ducts as quickly as she could, helmet sealed to protect her from the smoke of her blast and from whatever else might have been lingering in the vents.

With the containment zones being so unknown, she wasn’t taking any chances.

“I’m in the ventilation system.” Pidge reported, taking care to keep her voice low.

“Good job.” Shiro breathed, “But hurry. We only have so long until we run into bigger problems.”

Bigger problems being the outcome of Allura’s rash decision to take on Haggar.

Sure, she’d held her off once before but her abilities with quintessence were still new and she didn’t have several Blade members to back her up this time.

There was so much riding on this; far, far too much in Pidge’s opinion.

This was playing on Critical Mode without a memory card.

Good thing Pidge had never been above cheating.

It was simple work to pause for a moment, pulling up her wrist computer and launching a quick message into the cosmos. It wasn’t the most eloquent request and a part of her was afraid that he’d taken her warning a little too seriously and booked it out of the system itself.

She could only hope that Tiren got her message in time for him to be of some help to Allura.

Pidge took a deep breath, grimacing slightly at the recycled taste before pushing forward. There was no use in letting herself get distracted now. She needed to find her boys and get them out of here.

They didn’t have the time to waste.

As she expected from a base of this size, the ventilation system was expansive and spacious, more than big enough for Pidge to move around comfortably. “Come on, I should be right over top of them.” She muttered to herself, scooching over to one of the grids and taking a chance.

Lucky for her, no one ever thought to look up.

She peered through the metal, keeping her breath slow and even in an effort to avoid fogging up her helmet. Below her, an entire contingent of guards was struggling with a door, their clawed hands digging into the gap in an effort to pry the unresponsive hunk of steel open.

“Contact the Commander! The Paladins have escaped!” One of the guards on the outskirts barked, several of the others yelping as the unmistakable sound of blaster fire echoed through the room.

They jerked their hands back, fingers smoking and damaged.

Pidge would recognize the sound of that blaster anywhere.

Lance and Keith were okay enough to attempt to escape themselves. That was a good sign and it’d definitely make her job infinitely easier.

“No need to call me, you fools.” A sharp, sinister voice snapped, the tone familiar as well.

This was the one she’d heard when her virus had first made contact.

This was the base’s Commander.

_Fuck._

“How sentimental.”

What was he talking about? Were Lance and Keith talking on the other side of the door?

“Commander, sir!” One of the guards saluted, his smoking fingers making the motion slightly comical in Pidge’s opinion.

“To think that all of you have managed to be outsmarted by a door and two wounded Paladins.” The Commander snarled, “I’ll show you how it’s done.”

The Commander produced something small from inside one of the pouches on his belt, the remaining guards freezing up at the sight, their golden eyes obviously terrified even from where Pidge observed.

That was a bomb. That had to be a bomb.

Shit.

_Shit shit shit._

”Sir, is that really a good idea?” A braver guard squeaked as the Commander attached his device to the stubborn door, “The containment areas are very close to the prison. If the fire spreads, it could lead to disaster!”

So fire would affect whatever was in those areas.

Great.

“I think I understand how bombs work, fool.” The Commander snapped, “I wasn’t put in charge of this base for nothing.”

…Were there bombs in the containment areas?

_Double fuck._

The Galra beneath her grate immediately scattered as the Commander engaged the charges, their haste making Pidge antsy.

Should she go? What kind of scope would this bomb have? Surely it couldn’t be too great if the Commander was willing to stand just a few short steps away from his device? What about this man scared the other soldiers so badly that they ran?

All in all it was a quiet device and the technical part of her brain could appreciate the subtlety in its creation. She’d be impressed if it wasn’t currently in the process of being used against her teammates.

The detonation was just as quiet as the rest of it and Pidge was utterly unprepared for the sheer level of destructive force that erupted from the tiny device. It didn’t just blow the door in, it blew in the entire wall, the structural support giving way in great goopy messes of overheated metal and piping. Pidge gripped the inside of the ventilation shaft desperately as it bucked forward, an entire section now open and flaming from the bomb that had just taken out a wall of solid metal that couldn’t be less than two feet thick.

Just what the _fuck_ was in that bomb?

The Commander sauntered forward through the flaming mess with ease, avoiding the white hot metal and flaming chunks of debris. It was difficult to keep her eyes on him as she focused on trying not to slide down the slowly collapsing ventilation shaft, the heat of the fires in front of her making her skin prickle even through the suit’s temperature controls.

Please, please let Lance and Keith have gotten away from that blast before it could go. Let one of them have realized what was going to happen. Let them have been smart.

Please, let them have retreated for once.

“And that, is how we open a stubborn door.” The Commander taunted, “Now let’s see about getting these Paladins back to the Palace. Someone is most anxious to see them again.”

No. No way in hell.

She hadn’t come this far just for this Commander to swoop in front of them and throw off the entire game.

“Oh, I think the fuck not.” She snarled, steeling herself and activating her jetpack, arms crossed in front of her head.

She surged forward through the collapsing ventilation shaft and tumbled out onto the ground just behind the Commander, fury in her veins and determination on her face.

Her heart sank in her chest when the smoke began to clear, the familiar shapes of her teammates crumpled against the wall, Keith moving desperately to try and shield Lance from the threat that was slowly but steadily approaching them.

They were bruised and bloodied, the ceremonial tunics they were draped in tattered at the sleeves and bloodstained. Crimson drenched the side of Keith’s face and Pidge could just make out a worrying blotch that darkened the front of Lance’s left hip.

Her boys were fighting but they were hurt and tired.

It was time she gave them some help.

There was a special kind of despair in Keith’s face as she crept closer, the kind that made Pidge’s chest squeeze painfully. Lance seemed too dazed by everything but even he looked drawn. They weren’t giving up by any means but none of this could have been a walk in the park by the looks of things.

She let her bayard materialize in her hands, giving thanks for her small stature and inherent stealthy nature. Sure, it wasn’t the most honorable way to fight but Keith and Shiro had done their best to train that mentality out of them.

At this point, they needed to focus on survival. Sometimes surviving a fight or making sure a teammate survived a fight meant doing things that weren’t honorable.

It meant fighting dirty. It meant sneaking and guerilla warfare whenever possible.

They were just seven people against an Empire millennia old.

Pidge would do whatever it took to keep her families together and safe.

Without hesitation, Pidge darted forward and swung her bayard. The blade caught the Commander between the shoulder blades and she engaged the charge, his scream of pain nearly inaudible in her ears with the way her pulse was beating so loudly.

He collapsed before her and she smacked him again, just for good measure, a part of her calming when Lance let out a dazed snort.

“Double tap.”

She couldn’t help but smile at his words, meeting Keith’s incredulous eyes with her own. “Come on. We don’t have a lot of time. That won’t keep him down for long and we need to get out of her before Shiro accidentally hits one of these containment areas. I’m getting the distinct feeling that this base is way more dangerous than we first thought.”

“Pidgey to the rescue.” Lance chuckled, the noise cutting off sharply after just a few moments, the lanky boy curling tight around the spreading blotch on his stomach.

Pain crossed Keith’s expressive features and Pidge felt her heart drop to her stomach. “What’s wrong?”

“Remember how Lance was stabbed?” Keith breathed, shakily making his way to feet before turning to loom over Lance, hands hesitant over his broad shoulders, “His wound has reopened.”

“How bad?” Pidge snapped, slipping immediately into mission mode.

This was worse than she feared.

“Bad enough.” Keith huffed, pain crossing his features again as he pulled Lance to his feet, the lanky boy letting out a yelp at the motion.

“Easy!”

“We don’t have time for easy, Pidgey.” Lance wheezed, giving her a tight smile, “You said it yourself. We gotta get the hell out of dodge.”

Intellectually, she knew he was right. But this was just like the incident with the Castle all over again. She didn’t like to see any of her team hurt.

And if she was understanding right, Lance had been hurt for several days.

They’d taken the healing pods for granted. It wasn’t always going to be possible for them to get those quick fixes, especially when they were trapped/undercover.

“We need to get you guys back to the Castle as soon as possible.”

“Lead the way.” Keith said tightly, his face drawn in far more pain than she would have expected from looking at the injuries he’d received.

It didn’t quite make sense.

“Follow me. The ventilation shaft I was using isn’t going to be sturdy enough to get all of us out of here so we need to find another way to the roof.” Pidge hummed, shelving her curiosity and worry for the time being.

It hurt her heart to turn away from them but they did need to get moving. Standing around wasn’t going to get them rescued anytime soon. Plus, her bayard’s taser like effect wasn’t going to keep that Commander down for long and they still needed to maneuver around the guards that had fled the blast.

This wasn’t going to be easy by any definition of the word.

She pulled up the base’s schematics on her wrist computer, absently keeping an eye on their surroundings as she led them from the destroyed room, agile feet stepping carefully around the flaming chunks of the base wall.

There had to be another way up to the roof. Some kind of access stairwell at the very least. Her jetpack wouldn’t be powerful enough for her to carry either of them and she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to hold their weight.

“Shiro.” She called into her coms system, frowning when static was all that greeted her.

That….wasn’t a good sign.

“Shiro’s here too?”

“He’s providing a distraction outside.” Pidge explained, trying to keep her mounting anxiety from showing on her face as Keith and Lance hobbled out of the smoking room, the undestroyed light of the hallway only serving to make them look even sicklier.

_There was so much blood._

Keith’s tunic had a spray of dried blood crusted all over the front, the coloring clearly differentiating it from human blood but Lance, he had a stain that just kept creeping higher, the light blue fabric lost to the almost black splotch.

“What about Hunk?” Lance wheezed, sharp blue eyes regaining some of their lucidity.

“He’s back at the Castle. There was an incident on Terria and he’s recovering. Coran is keeping an eye on him.” Pidge relayed, doing her best to keep the worst of it from him.

If Lance knew what Hunk had done, he’d be frantic. You don’t just hear that your best friend pulled some kamikaze bullshit and _not_ freak out.

She needed to keep the freak outs to a bare minimum for the time being.

Pidge chanced a look over her shoulder, the tense expression on Keith’s face telling her more than his words probably ever would.

He _knew_ about what had happened to Hunk. If he’d gotten her message, there would be no way to hide it from him. But there wasn’t accusation in his eyes.

Only understanding.

Gotta keep those freak-outs to their _barest_ minimum, please and thank you.

A brief sigh of relief left her when her eyes caught on a staircase built into the schematics, a ball of tension forming in her gut at its proximity to the “containment zone”.

At least they’d finally find out what was in there?

“This way.”

The tromp of booted footsteps made her heart jump into her throat and she nearly buckled when Keith all but dumped Lance’s lanky body on her. “Keep going. I’ll protect the rear but you gotta keep moving.” He hissed, pushing through a light stumble and brandishing his bayard.

“Get your ass back here, Red.” Lance mumbled into her shoulder, “You’re just as hurt as I am.”

“Never thought I’d say this, but Lance is right.” Pidge growled, taking a soft amount of relief in the weak protest that was pulled from Lance, “I’ll concede that you’ll probably do a better job at taking those soldiers down but we need to get out of here and I’m not leaving either one of you behind.”

The tension in Keith’s shoulders only seemed to build and he darted back to them with a contrite expression. Pidge couldn’t help but swear when he ducked one of Lance’s arms over his shoulder, her arms screaming in relief now that she wasn’t solely responsible for Lance’s entire weight.

“I never thought that would actually work.”

“He loooooves us.” Lance giggled, the words slurring just a little bit, “And he knew we wouldn’t leave without him. So it was listen to our wise words or leave all three of us standing there like ducks.”

Pidge leaned back to lift an eyebrow at their stoic Red Paladin, a tiny smile coming to her face at the light dusting of pink in the cheek that wasn’t smeared with blood. “Aww, that’s almost cute, Keith.”

“I don’t always pull reckless stunts.” Keith muttered.

“You’re right. Lance takes his fair share of the turns too.” Pidge jabbed, Lance’s pout easing some more of that terrible fear in the depths of her soul.

She’d been pretty worried about him.

“I’m gonna be the bigger person and go ahead with probably putting a ban on Keith and I ever going undercover again.” Lance hummed, “Things tend to go _sideways._ ”

“He is not wrong.” Keith grunted, pulling Lance’s weight further onto his shoulders, the movement pulling a soft noise of pain from both of them, “We also make things blow up.”

“What if we need things to blow up?” Pidge teased, eyes catching on the doors they needed to make it through.

Just a little further and they’d be out of sight. Just a little further and she could get them to Green.

They were going to get out of this.

“Isn’t that what we pay you for?” Keith said dryly, mouth quirking up in half-smile, Lance chuckling between the two of them.

“I’m demanding a raise.”

The doors were right there!

Letting Keith shoulder some more of Lance’s weight, she kicked her leg forward, the door bursting open and swinging wide. She grabbed the lanky Blue Paladin once more and hustled through the door, her heart in her throat.

“The stairs should be to the left here.” She whispered, eyes downcast as she focused on renewing her grip on Lance.

Just a little bit more. She could get them to Green. She could get a message to Shiro without whatever was goofing up her transmitter.

“Uh, Pidge?”

That wasn’t a good sound.

She looked up and her eyes immediately crossed in an effort to keep the barrel of the rifle in her face in her line of vision.

“Would you look at that, Hardwick?” A guard laughed roughly, “Three Paladins!”

“I see that, you ignorant fool.”

Pidge flicked her eyes to the side, Keith meeting her gaze in her peripheral, a rifle also trained at his forehead. He seemed to be inwardly concentrated, a rush of emotions crossing over his face.

“Fine. Lance, you win.”

Suddenly, Lance’s entire weight had them toppling to the side as Keith struck like a snake, the speed of his attack overwhelming the two guards. Thanks to the sudden rush of Lance’s weight, the rifle shot that likely would have made its home between her eyes hit the door behind them, an alarm screaming through the base loud enough to make Lance curl into her.

Keith also faltered in his attack and she scrambled out from underneath Lance’s surprisingly heavy torso, pulling them both to their feet with an effort that made her muscles bark in agony.

“What the fuck was that?” She screeched when the alarm’s blare died down enough for them to hear.

“We’re mind readers now, Pidgey.” Lance gasped, “Crazy Libanis voodoo and all that.”

“Please shut up. That’s not how that happened.” Keith grumbled, surging to his feet and pushing them both closer to the walls, “Plus, is this really the time? That alarm is going to bring every guard in the facility here.”

“I’m well aware of that.” Pidge snapped, doing her best to keep Lance on his feet, “We need to get to those stairs. If we can get there, we can get to the roof and then to Green.”

“What about Shiro?”

“I can’t contact him. I think the explosion earlier or something in it is messing with my com.” Pidge swore, pulling Lance with her as she moved to the far wall, the glimmer and shine of machinery catching her attention.

With weary arms, she rested the two of them against the wall as Keith pulled up the rear, eyes darting around. “What is all this?”

“This is marked as a containment zone on the map.”

“Containment for what?”

“What does it look like, Keith?” Pidge swallowed harshly, eyes taking in the expanse of the large room they’d found themselves in, “They’re making bombs.”

“There’s so many.” Lance breathed, “What would happen if we blew this entire base?”

“I’m not sure.” Pidge admitted, readjusting her grip once more, “They don’t look like much but the one that Commander used was a fraction of their size and it blew through a two foot thick wall. If the other containment area looks just like this, we could risk taking the entire continent down with the base.”

Keith paused for a moment, violet eyes wide. “Does Shiro know about that?”

“No.” Pidge whispered, “And he’s been shooting all around the base to keep their attention.”

“So I’m also gonna vote that we tell the Alliance where to stick it from now on.” Lance huffed, resting as much of his weight against the wall as he could.

“Seconded.”

“Thirded.”

“Cool. Motion passes.”

“We have to get out of here first.” Keith growled, still doing his utmost to keep himself between Pidge, her Lance shaped burden and the guards they could hear running down the halls, “With all this in here, they should be more hesitant to shoot so that’s a good sign. We’re not gonna get shot down at least.”

“I think being shot at is the least of our worries.” Pidge said dryly, “I wouldn’t put it past them to just detonate the whole room to be rid of us.”

“Just because that’s what would be smart, doesn’t mean they’re gonna do it.” Lance laughed, “This is the Galra. They deal in weird mistakes.”

“Blood loss is making you surprisingly wise today.” Pidge huffed, Keith letting out a small chuckle.

The Blue Paladin inclined his head as best he could while still being partially supported by the wall and Pidge’s slight weight. There was a worrying dimness to his eyes that Pidge noted away for later.

With the detonation from earlier, he probably had a concussion. With Keith’s head wound, it was likely he did too but for right now, Lance was the bigger concern.

As far as she understood, he was still weakened from poison. He didn’t have the energy to fight off blood loss and a concussion the way Keith did.

And the stairs were still so far away. Time was running out before they’d be overrun.

“Lance, can you stand?” She murmured, guilt building in her chest.

“Of course I can stand, Pidgey.” Lance boasted, “Who do you think you’re talking to?”

“The person covered in blood and probably concussed.” Pidge said sternly, “I need you to keep moving for the stairs, Lance. Keith and I will do our best to hold them back but I need you to get to Green. We have to get a message to the Castle and to Shiro. We can’t just blow this place up without having a plan in place to protect the rest of the continent.”

“I’m not leaving you two behind!” Lance protested hotly, eyes flicking between her and Keith.

“You either go or none of us are going to make it out.” Pidge reiterated, “We don’t have time for this. We aren’t trying to be heroes, Lance. We’ll be right behind you. I’m not planning on staying here to die. I’ve got things to do.”

“Pidge…”

“She just said we don’t have time to argue, Lance.” Keith said gently, turning back to them for a moment and sliding his fingers over the bruises on Lance’s jaw. “We can’t let anything to happen to Taellia and the others. They worked too hard get us out of there. We gave ourselves up to protect that block of people. How is this any different?”

“Because you’re asking me to leave you behind when every fucking guard in this place is on our tail!” Lance huffed, the tears pooling in his eyes only making Pidge feel worse, “We just had this conversation with you, Keith! Don’t ask me to be a hypocrite!”

It was cruel to ask this of him but if she went with him, it’d almost certainly doom Keith.

This is what they could do and she was going to make sure they all made it out.

“I’ve had worse odds.”

The moment between them felt far too intimate for Pidge to be watching but she couldn’t look away. Something had changed, shifted. She wouldn’t be surprised if the truth had come out while they’d all been out of contact.

These two idiots weren’t pining in ignorance anymore.

“Please, Lance.” She whispered, “We’re counting on you.”

When Lance’s eyes fluttered closed in defeat, she knew her soft words had been the nail in the coffin of Lance’s stubbornness. He could be as hard-headed as Keith sometimes but Lance would do whatever it took to keep his friends safe.

Even if it meant leaving them behind to get a message out.

“The Blue Lion is all about faith right? Faith and acceptance.” She hummed, smiling when Lance looked up at her with those wide blue eyes, “So have faith in us. We definitely have faith in you.”

Sadness and desperation turned to determination and she couldn’t help the grin that pulled over her face.

“You both better stay alive.” He said darkly, “I’m not leaving without you and if you die, I will find a way to resurrect your asses just to beat them.”

“Promises, promises.” Keith teased, “We both know you’ve never beaten my ass.”

“First time for everything, samurai.”

A closer thud of shoes snapped their lighter atmosphere and Pidge looked to Lance with a sharp stare. “Get moving. We have a planet to protect.”

“Just another day of being Team Voltron.”

Lance gave her a lazy salute and dragged himself up off her shoulder, one heavily trembling hand pressed against the wall. “Keep him safe for me, Pidgey.”

The whispered words filled her with resolve and she turned her back on his shambling figure, blood smearing the wall intermittently where he had to use it to support himself. He moved quicker than she had anticipated, Keith’s jaw tight with pain from where he stood next to her.

Lance had gotten to the very first step when the first of the guards burst through the door, golden eyes locked on his bloodied form from across the containment zone. As Keith had predicted, their hands stayed off their blasters, the purple tide instead surging into the room in an effort to get at the escaping Paladin.

In their hurry, they didn’t notice the ones in their way until it was far too late.

It was always a rush to fight side by side with Keith. He moved like he’d been fighting his entire life, blade cutting through the encroaching tide far more efficiently that her own small bayard. Keith could hold a line of defense.

Not as long as Hunk but still. He was a beacon of protection.

She did her best to keep up, jumping around the machinery to utilize her size and speed. She darted through their ranks with impunity, zapping the guards into unconsciousness and moving on.

Even with the lavender tide of warriors, their line was holding and Pidge couldn’t help the surge of hope in her heart. Green shouldn’t be too far away and Lance was moving quicker than she had anticipated.

This could work out.

And then the tide of soldiers parted and Pidge’s breath stilled in her chest as the Commander she had incapacitated earlier strode forward, fur singed and eyes locked unerringly on the Paladins that stood in his way.

“And now there’s a third.” He sneered, hateful eyes burning with anger, “I should have known better. You Paladins are far more trouble than you’re worth.”

“We do our best.” Pidge baited, her breath heaving in her chest, “We can’t help it when you make it so easy.”

“Easy, Green Paladin?” The Commander barked, “I suppose this has been a fun little jaunt for you, considering your expertise but this farce will end now. You’re trapped and you’re in for quite the treat. You see, it was no mistake that I was the one put in charge of this base. No one quite knows their explosives like I do.”

Keith only watched impassively as the Commander drew even closer, violet eyes narrowing as he moved within range.

“That’s nice.” Pidge yawned, doing her best to beat down her fear of whatever Keith had planned, “But I don’t see what that has to do with us.”

“Don’t you?” He simpered, “Well, let me remedy that for you. The explosive force in this base has the capability to completely destroy Libanis down to its very core. I’ve received Lady Haggar’s permission to detonate.”

Pidge could feel the blood in her face drain and she fought to keep her stance in the face of such a threat.

They were just going to destroy the planet?

“You’re going to destroy the planet that’s been keeping you equipped with such high tech technology?”

“The Galra Empire has no use for traitors and the people of Libanis have turned on us. Aiding and abetting the Paladins of Voltron? Murdering our dignitaries?” The Commander sniffed, “That is more than enough for us to be done with their meager aid.”

“If you detonate this now, you’ll all go down with it.” Keith hissed, eyes alight with anger.

“But think of the glory. I would take all of Voltron down with me.” He laughed, “Victory or death, Red Paladin. Vrepit sa.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it.” Keith snarled, rushing the Commander.

Everything surged back into hectic motion and Pidge found herself battling valiantly against the guards that had taken Keith’s movement as a sign to attack once more. They were losing ground and growing tired against the Galra troops that accosted them.

Had it been long enough? Had Lance given his message?

Please let him be alright.

A well placed kick knocked her legs from underneath her and the encroaching tide gave her no time to recover. She found herself pinned to the unforgiving floor by a boot on her chest plate, the pressure making it difficult to breathe.

The Red Bayard clattered near her head and she looked up to see Keith suspended in the air, the Commander’s hand tight around his throat. “A valiant effort but nonetheless in vain.” He sighed, “I can already hear the odes to my glorious name. Commander Callidas, the one who took down Voltron and the traitorous planet of Libanis.”

Pidge struggled greatly with the boot that pinned her to the floor, desperation in her actions.

This couldn’t be it. They couldn’t be beaten. She hadn’t come so far just to lose now!

“Tell me, Red. Where is your husband?” Callidas purred, “Surely you don’t wish to leave this world without him at your side?”

“Gone.” Keith spat, the Commander grimacing at the spittle that landed on his face, “You won’t get your hands on him.”

“A pity. I wanted to give you the Galra honor of dying with your spouse.” Callidas sighed, “If only you’d stayed in Libanis’ fairy castle a little longer. The quintessence binding would have ensured you’d go together. Now he’ll slowly go mad without you. Shouldn’t be too long before he joins you though.”

The soldier above her looked briefly unsettled by the Commander’s purred words and Pidge gritted her teeth as she continued to struggle.

As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t get the foot to budge and she didn’t have the air to play off the disconcertment of the soldiers around her. Her bayard had fallen too far for her to reach and the Red Bayard hovered just tauntingly out of the tips of her fingers.

She was trapped.

“It’s…it’s been an honor flying with you, Red.” She gasped, conscious of Keith’s slowing struggles.

“Get your hands off my husband!”

And a blaster shot lit up the darkened staircase.

~~~~

“Mission?” Nazeer tutted, “Of course you wouldn’t seek vengeance of your own accord. I broke you far too well for that.”

“Years ago, I would have agreed with you.” Taellia wheezed, one hand cradling her rapidly bruising throat even as she kept her stance steady, “But broken things can heal, Nazeer.”

The older Libanian only scoffed at her impassioned words, the sickly pallor to his skin and bruises beneath his eyes only serving to make the action grotesque and unnerving.

He looked like little more than a reanimated corpse and the comparison made her stomach lurch unpleasantly.

Because it was true.

He should have died in that room, the Red Paladin’s blade piercing his torso in such a way that recovery should have been impossible. No Libanian healer would have been able to save him, if any of them even tried. Any attempt would have been likely to prolong his suffering and that would have only brought pain to the healers.

Whatever Zarkon’s witch had done, it was beyond unnatural and Nazeer’s sickly form and unchanged strength reflected that.

No one who looked as ghastly as Nazeer did would have been able to stand, let alone suspend her aloft with one arm.

So what was sustaining him? The Druid’s magic? Something else?

“It was always entertaining to watch you struggle, Taellia.” Nazeer rasped, moving forward smoothly through the blackened archway, “Struggle to resist. Struggle to thrive. Struggle to understand. I can see it in your eyes even now.”

Taellia couldn’t help but taken an unconscious step backward as Nazeer advanced, eyes taunting. Inwardly, she swore and held her ground, planting her feet amongst the ashes and brittle burned plants. She had made her choice. Either she left here victorious…

Or she didn’t.

She’d spent too long skulking and scheming and planning on how she’d eliminate him.

Now was the time for decisive action. She didn’t have the luxury of indulging in the fear she’d held for this man.

For what he’d done to her.

For what he’d taken.

Taellia had to make her stand here. For Libanis. For Lance and Keith. For the Universe.

_For Mira._

The thought of her gentle lover bolstered her spirit and she felt some of that soul deep terror begin to ebb.

“No response?” Nazeer laughed, “It is well within your nature to suffer in silence.”

He inched slightly forward, the faintest of winces deepening the lines of his face as he crossed the boundary from the Palace into the garden itself.

That…was something.

Maybe it was something she could use to even the scales. Ordinarily, Nazeer would have an insurmountable advantage in his size and strength. If she could somehow stifle that….

“Something the matter, Uncle?” Taellia taunted, heart threatening to jump into her throat, “I thought you wished to take my life?”

Trinity, just saying that made her hands shake and her skin crawl. She’d never tried to goad him before. Her sheer existence had been reason enough for his abuses in the past.

As she expected, his eyebrows immediately furrowed in anger and surged toward her, the forceful action dimming a stumble the further he moved from the Palace.

Her face lit up in realization even as hope began to sing through her veins.

Something _was_ sustaining him! If she could get him far enough from the Palace, this could very well become a fight she would actually win!

She _could_ defeat Nazeer.

As if sensing her buoyed spirits, Nazeer snapped his head up in a snarl, spittle and blood coming to stain his beard a reddish black. “You think you’ve won just because your opponent has stumbled? You think victory is yours because you’ve sniffed out a weakness? I don’t need the witch and her sorcery to take your life, Taellia.” Nazeer roared, the action morphing his countenance into something far more bestial, “You are a fool. A dead fool but a fool nonetheless.”

Anger overpowered whatever weakness Nazeer suffered due to distance, his broken body surging forward so quickly that Taellia barely evaded him, her ribbons’ highly developed reflexes just barely rescuing her from Nazeer’s clawing grasp.

They weren’t fast enough to protect her from his sudden pivot, and she caught the full force of his foot in her stomach. Both the angle and the momentum launched her backwards, a breathless cry ripped from her chest as she landed with a snap in the brittle and burned remains of the once lush and fragrant plant life that had all but consumed this wind of the Palace.

Her chest heaved uselessly as she fought to recover the air that Nazeer had quite literally knocked out of her, the broken shards of a burned tree cutting into her with every failed exhale.

Loud, stumbling steps drew near and Taellia panicked, only further ensnaring herself in the burned carcasses of plant life, particularly the tree she had landed in, vine like branches twining around her thrashing form.

Why had she thought she’d ever had the upper hand?

She wasn’t a fighter, she had never had the opportunity to learn and Nazeer’s abuses had made her cling tightly to the few defenses she did have.

She was too small, too petite to stand against her Uncle’s bulk and the shadows of days past made her shrink back from remembered pain.

Her eyes opened wide as those fumbling steps drew to a close. She met Nazeer’s deadened eyes, a sneer firmly in place on his face, “See, little Taellia?” Nazeer said icily, shuffling feet kicking at one of the branches below her, the ensuing snap her only warning before she fell further into the bramble like entrapment.

Pain bloomed in her abdomen and she barely locked a scream behind her teeth as she looked down, hands come to clasp at the bloodied stake protruding just left of where Nazeer had kicked her.

“It’s poetic, really.” Nazeer hummed, feet shuffling once more as several more branches broke into sharp, biting points beneath her, “In life, this plant had so many lovely uses. Why it’s barely been touched by the damage the rest of the garden has suffered. It’s a shame these once strong branches are now so brittle. Before they’d have held you without a creak.”

Another snap and she slid further down, sharpened points gouging at her flesh, the scream behind her teeth loosened as Nazeer tapped idly at the stake impaling her.

“Ah. Lovely.” Nazeer sighed, “You always had such a sweet singing voice, my dear little bird.”

He punctuated his statement with an almost paternal stroke of her hair, the motion making her sick with rage and pain.

This couldn’t be how it ended!

He didn’t get to impale her with a remnant of the garden she had loved so much and then just croon at her like some bastardized facsimile of a father figure!

Her ribbons coiled weakly through the ghost of the shara tree that had her pinned so handily.

A sad irony in that too.

She had loved this tree, this sad, small thing with its spindly branches and tiny, sweet smelling flowers.

She’d spent hours in Mira’s arms here, the surprisingly dense tree their shield from the world beyond.

And now its spindly limbs had turned fragile and sharp, its shield like foliage eaten away by the fire and the flames to reveal an interior complex enough to trap and wound her.

A sword had been hidden within the shield she’d used to hide and now it had her trapped.

“Finish it, you frelling coward.” She wheezed, force in her failing voice.

Taellia didn’t want to suffer like this, slowly bleeding out as Nazeer sneered and laughed at her struggles. Even if she didn’t want to die, she really didn’t want to die _like this_.

“Perhaps I am as you say, dear Taellia.” Nazeer smiled, taunt in his voice, “Too cowardly to take your life.”

“We both know you aren’t.”

The laugh that echoed through the burned garden made a rage without measure well up in Taellia’s very soul. It bounced through her memories, memories of her fraught childhood.

She _hated_ that laugh, more than she’d ever hated anything else in the universe.

More than the injustices Nazeer had visited on Libanis. More than the pervasive Galra Empire.

She hated his laugh and she hated him.

“True, true.” Nazeer went on, his tone light and conversational, almost as if they were simply having tea, “I’ve always had the courage to do the things that needed to be done. Just like when I killed my sister.”

Blood welled in Taellia’s mouth and she spat at him, the glob sliding off Nazeer’s face without so much as a blink. It was almost as if he didn’t even feel it.

It only served to incense her further.

“Your mother did the same thing after I sentenced her to die.” He sighed, voice nostalgic, “Shall I let you in on a secret before we end this farce of a battle? When I sentenced your mother to die, the punishment for racial impurity had never been death. Why, that had never been a crime before!”

The words pulled away some of Taellia’s rage and she blinked back frustrated tears.

“Then why? Why did you kill her?!”

“Dear sweet Taellia, why do I kill anyone? You’ve certainly seen me work. She happened to stumble upon my little deal with the Galra and she decided to stand in my way.” Nazeer laughed, snapping off one of the sharped stakes surrounding them, “So I found a way to get rid of her _and_ got the base built as the Galra desired. I should have known that you’d grow up to be just like her.”

Taellia nearly let her eyes close in surrender, her emotions a confused, tattered mess and her body losing strength with every moment that Nazeer prattled on.

A part of her wished that he _would_ end it, if only to free her from the pain and turmoil of the last few days. Hell, from the turmoil of her _entire life_ up to this point.

But a greater part of her railed against such base surrender. She knew that Nazeer was drawing this out to watch her suffer. His admission didn’t surprise her but something in her heart eased at the knowledge that her mother’s death had not truly been a consequence of her birth.

No, her mother had died because her uncle was a mad tyrant who cared little for the people he was supposed to be leading.

Her eyes locked on something grey and glowing purple tucked into Nazeer’s belt, the wrapped hilt almost hidden beneath his matted beard.

That…was Keith’s knife. The one Nazeer had stolen after Lance was stabbed.

Something about it was achingly familiar but she pushed the thought to the back her increasingly fuzzy brain, determination singing through her trembling limbs.

She’d been too confident earlier, assured of her deduction and how she could act upon it. She’d acted without thought and it had only landed her in this increasingly desperate situation.

She had to make this last effort count. There wouldn’t be another chance.

Of that, she was beyond sure.

“I should have killed you alongside her.” Nazeer mused, his breath rattling like a death knoll as he raised the stake above his head, “But I will have to admit. I draw a special sense of happiness for how things have turned out here. Farewell, lovely Taellia. May we never meet again in this or any other world.”

As the stake descended, Taellia gave an almighty push with her ribbons and launched herself from the prison of the shara tree, sharpened branches tearing at her skin and nearly severing her ribbons. Her sudden weight collapsed against Nazeer and the strike meant for her throat instead laid open the top of one shoulder.

She cried out at the gash, her voice echoing loudly in the silence of the garden even as she curled her hand around the stolen knife and lashed out.

Once.

                Twice.

Again.

                Again.

                                And again.

Taellia struck blindly until could no long lift her arms, the suddenness of her attack initially dulling the pain of tripping herself from the stakes impaling her.

But now, oh Trinity…

Pain screamed through her entire being and she shuddered at the feel of blood and viscera coating her skin from her frantic assault.

Slowly, she forced her eyes open, mouth flooding with bloodied bile as she gazed upon the results of her action.

She barely recognized him.

Her first hit must have been more successful than she’d hoped and she heaved as she made contact with Nazeer’s open, sightless eyes.

She’d…she’d done it.

He was dead.

Her tormenter. Her abuser. Her boss.

…Her uncle was finally dead.

Silence reigned as she waited to feel relief, maybe satisfaction for her completed revenge.

He was dead and not even the witch would be able to bring him back from what she’d done.

Or so Taellia hoped.

But all she felt was sadness. Yeah, a part of her breathed easier but the rest was still scared. Where was the closure she was supposed to feel? It just felt…hollow.

If she hadn’t acted, it would have been her lying dead amongst the ashes of a beloved paradise but how was this any better?

She’d live with his blood on her hands for the rest of her life.

Maybe Matt had been right. She really was too soft to be the assassin she’d originally purported herself to be.

Tears bubbled up and she pressed her hand to the gaping wound in her stomach, the other clutching Keith’s knife as she fought the urge to wail.

It was over.

Her mission completed. She had won this battle, at a dire cost.

But the war raged on. She promised to find Mira.

Mira _needed_ her.

Gasping and swearing in every language she knew, Taellia pulled herself to her feet, ribbons barely catching her when her knees immediately buckled, the pain in her abdomen so fierce that she had to retch violently into the crumbling bushes after only a few stumbling steps.

The soft pad of footsteps made her jerk her head up, adrenaline and fear helping her to ignore the bile that threatened to race up her throat. She clutched Keith’s knife so tightly the hilt began to cut into her hand, desperation coloring her response.

Through a haze of tears and pain, Taellia could make out familiar tan and cream robes, her ribbons listing to the side just in time for the healer to catch her failing body.

“Mira?” She chocked, unsure what to make of the healer’s silence.

Mira usually spoke a mile a minute when Taellia had managed to hurt herself.

Was this…not Mira?

“Lady Taellia?” A soft voice whispered, masculine in tone and definitely unsteady with fear.

Not Mira.

Weakly, she tried to pull away but the healer held fast, his hands gentle as he pulled her into his arms. Strength spent and life blood slowly but surely staining that familiar garb, Taellia felt herself go limp, the healer’s words becoming a panicked, garbled mess.

“Please! Mira needs your help!”

The words pulled her back to reality and she gripped the blue tabard in her hands, only idly connecting the color to the few initiates she’d seen.

“We don’t have much time. She’s been throwing these strange switches all over the Palace but the soldiers caught up to her.” The initiate rambled, his grip becoming almost painful.

“How-how do you know all this?” Taellia gasped, trying to peer at the young face above her.

“Don’t you know me? Lady Taellia, it’s me, Mehren.” He sniffed, face coming into view at last, “I was supposed to be Mira’s student in the coming season. I found the note she left and I hid it from the others. When I saw her back in the palace, I followed her! She’s in trouble!”

“We’re all in trouble, Mehren.” Taellia hummed, patting softly at his arm, “How many switches did she throw?”

“T-two, I think. Why? Why does that matter? We have to help her!”

“How much help do you expect me to be right now?” Taellia coughed, glaring at the boy above her.

He paused for a moment, looking her over before his already pale skin became chalky and ashen. “Some of that blood is yours.”

“This is why Mira had put off your schooling.” Taellia barked, “I don’t know what you wanted me to do but there is something we have to finish.”

“The switches?” Mehren whispered, looking back only briefly before he started booking it, “Sweet Trinity, you killed the Chancellor.”

“Yes, I did.” Taellia murmured, “As the next highest official in Palace, that makes me acting Chancellor, so consider this an order. There are three switches like what Mira was throwing. We need to throw the last one or we’re all dead.”

“Lady Taellia, you’re dying and Mira is in trouble! What could these switches do that would be worth this much suffering?” Mehren protested, every step of his feet against the floor making pain shoot through Taellia’s body.

“Zarkon’s Witch. We have to distract her.” Taellia gasped, vision swimming with black.

“Distract her? For who? For how long?”

“We have to hold out as long as we can or Voltron will fail.”

~~~~

The click of the second switch echoed ominously in the silence of the control terminal and it took every thread of Mira’s being to keep from screeching in pain.

Each cell of her body screamed, agony consuming her from the inside out.

It was too much.

She couldn’t see, she could barely force herself to draw the few halting unsteady breaths she’d managed.

It was difficult to think, to reason, to even remember.

Why…why was she here again?

With the sheer force of the agony wracking her frame, Mira couldn’t remember.

It was…important? Important enough that she’d done this to herself willingly.

Lives were at stake.

But whose lives were those again?

Her knees finally gave up the fight and buckled violently. She slumped to the floor loudly, blinking in confusion at the sharp crack her knees had made on the concrete.

What was that pain in the face of the hurt consuming her body? It was just another drop in the ocean of suffering that was her reality.

Her darkening vision could barely make out the forms of soldiers, their skin an odd shade of lavender.

How strange.

Libanians weren’t usually that color and she’d certainly never seen guards that tall before.

Maybe they were just special like her darling Taellia.

Other aliens’ genetics often produced interesting results when paired with Libanians after all.

For example, Taellia’s ribbons. For such dainty, beautiful things they could be quite powerful. Far more powerful that any strength Taellia’s limbs could muster. And yet they were so gentle.

Mira sported a smile-like grimace as the soldiers surged forward, clawed hands tight around her arms as they pulled her to her feet.

How nice of them to give her some help. She was definitely having some trouble in the standing department today.

“Contact Haggar.” One of them barked, his voice rough and unpleasant to Mira’s ears, “We found the one flipping those security switches.”

“Hervor, do I have to? You know the Witch freaks me out.”

Witch? Wait, something about that.

Something bad.

Witch….witch…

Zarkon’s Witch.

Galra.

Sudden remembrance made Mira buck in the hold of the two soldiers standing beside her, pain resurging in her body in an effort to force her compliance once more.

“Let go of me.” She demanded, trying to keep the tremble out of her words as she fought her way through the mind numbing pain that threatened to consume her once more.

She wasn’t done! She still needed to throw one more!

The soldiers holding her ignored her struggles, hands only tightening around her arms as she pulled and jerked mightily.

“You didn’t believe me when I told you I was hearing footsteps earlier so yes. You do have to.” Hervor sniffed before turning and leaving the room.

The soldiers holding her dragged her behind him, not even budging as she kicked and clawed at their armor.

The pain surged again and she coughed out a wheeze like shriek, body going limp between the two Galrans.

She was caught.

Her legs dragged behind her as the unit proceeded down the hall, the last member jogging behind them after he made the call.

“She wants the healer brought to her.”

“The doors are electrified.” One of the guards holding her said slowly, as if in disbelief.

“Only for her apparently.” Hervor sighed, “Whoever this healer is working for, they’re good. It’s a good thing she didn’t get the third switch. The specialists here tell me it could have locked onto her biorhythms and activated the interior defense systems. I’d hate to be the one who has to explain that his Witch got offed by a defense system.”

Mira bowed her head regretfully, clenching her fists weakly. She’d been so close. Just one more and she could have ensured a victory for Voltron.

Now, because of her failure, the odds were even more against them.

Why did everything have to go so wrong? Why had their plans gone awry?

Didn’t the universe owe them a break?

They’d all gone through more than enough.

Familiar soft footsteps stopped in front of the unit and Mira craned her head back, the action taxing her far more than was probably healthy. Her vision swam for a moment and she fought the urge to let her eyes flutter closed.

For a moment, the blurry figure did nothing but as her vision sharpened, he gasped. Not that she blamed him, if she’d had the oxygen for it, she would have too.

Of all the people in the Palace to run into, she’d never dreamed she’d see the initiate she’d agreed to teach. Yet, here he stood, hands wringing anxiously in front of his blue tabard, wide grey eyes frantic.

“Lady Mira.” Mehren breathed, looking from her to the guards that eyed him suspiciously.

“Get out of our way kid.” Hervor snarled, hand resting threateningly on the blade sheathed at his hip, “The healers are supposed to be confined to their quarters. I suggest you get there before you join her.”

Mehren startled at the harsh address, those nervous hands twisting together once more.

He was so young and green. If he focused on his surroundings and the things beyond his nose, he would make an excellent healer.

It was why she’d agreed to teach him in the first place.

And why she had to at least try to help Taellia now that she’d been caught.

“Mehren.” She croaked, “Where does the shara tree grow?”

He snapped to attention at her words, eyes furrowing in confusion. “The shara tree is gone, Lady Mira.”

“Perhaps you should find it.” She snapped, willing him to understand.

Please, Mehren. For once, don’t make her spell it out.

Furrowed eyes opened wide in comprehension and Mira breathed out a prayer of thanks to the Trinity as her would-be student scurried away from the guards.

“Should we be following him?” One of her guards huffed, “That sounded suspicious.”

“He’s a child. Strong willed and stupid.” Mira lied, “I was his teacher. I did not want him in my place if he chose to do something foolish.”

“A fool’s errand then.” Hervor laughed, “Excellent.”

The rest of the journey to the mind bond venue passed in a blur, pain and exhaustion fogging her mind even as worry and guilt threatened to make her heave all over the carpet.

Hervor and his skeptical friend moved together to open the doors before them, a faint hum from the room beyond lending credibility to the claim of the switches’ function.

The Green Paladin truly was something else. It took so little for her to integrate herself so handily in the technologic workings of the Palace. Amongst all the planets the Galra had conquered, the Libanians prided themselves on having the strongest technological security.

And even they couldn’t keep her out for long. Mira doubted that any system could boast of being strong enough to keep itself out of the paws of Voltron’s Green Paladin.

The sudden inward swing of the doors interrupted her idle musing and she looked up fearfully at the woman who awaited within, mind buzzing with the weight of rumors and speculation.

It only stood to reason that a part of her was disappointed when she was finally face to face with such a purported figure of fear.

Zarkon’s Witch was small, shoulders slightly hunched in a way that bespoke years of pouring over something. It was the same hunch Mira had seen in the backs of Libanis’ scholars.

From her vantage point, Mira could see beneath the deep purple hood, practiced eye observing as much as she could, her breath coming easier at the sight of the unharmed figure before her.

Something sat uneasily in her chest at the sight of those glowing yellow eyes, the long red lines almost looking like wounds in her gaunt face.

This was a woman who had suffered a great sickness, perhaps even recently with how thin her body still appeared.

How such a seemingly frail and sickly creature inspired such fear was something that Mira didn’t even want to consider.

Who knew what secrets lurked behind those yellow eyes?

Just as Mira observed, so too did Haggar. Mira could feel herself being judged, her very soul being picked apart by harsh, unforgiving eyes.

When the Witch turned her gaze to the other side of the room, Mira had the supremely uncomfortable sensation that core of her being had been weighed…

And found wanting.

Unbidden, she followed Haggar’s eyes to where two familiar figures sat slumped against the wall, a badly injured figure draped in robes similar to the Witch’s audibly panting in distress behind an unsettling white mask.

Panic filled the gap that pain left behind and Mira ached to check on the two Terrian warriors who had so bravely taken on a veritable army to give them a chance to infiltrate the Palace.

A chance that had amounted to naught in the end.

She’d left Taellia to face down her uncle and the shackles of her oath had left her unable to succeed with the plan they’d set forth.

Trinity, please, let them not be as lifeless as they appeared.

“Given your reaction, it would be implausible for these two events to be singular. They were working together.” The Witch said at last, dismissing the guards with a careless wave of her hand, “Go. There may yet be more lurking about. I want all the traitors here when I show them just how badly they’ve failed.”

“There are no others.” Mira lied quickly, trying to force herself to stand but her body refused, still recovering from her oath’s backlash, “You captured all of us.”

The witch glided forward on silent feet, a single clawed fingertip pressing Mira’s chin upward to force the healer to meet her eyes.

In that moment, no power in the universe could have helped her move from that spot, a very special kind of fear holding her body still.

This…this was what inspired the rumors and fears that swirled around this woman like a miasma.

_There was no hiding from her._

“If you were going to lie to me, at least make it convincing.” Haggar chuckled, the sharp tip of her finger leaving the vulnerable dip of her chin, “And not to worry, healer, your punishment will wait until your lover is found. I simply detest liars.”

Shudders wracked Mira’s frame as Haggar stepped away and she gasped for breath. She hunched over quietly, her eyes filling with tears as she pulled her arms tight to her chest.

How much had the Witch seen? What had she seen?

Had Mira betrayed them all?

Silence reigned for a moment as Haggar turned back to consider a hastily constructed screen upon the mind bond altar. The rough breaths of the masked figure were the only noise and even those seemed to be growing weaker, the creature going limp as time passed.

“My Lady…” They gasped, a hand reaching for Haggar’s bowed shoulders.

“Tend to your injuries, my child. And tell Warslek to ready himself for our departure. This will not take much longer.”

Mira watched in horror as the creature disappeared in a surge of electricity, a sharp crack splitting the area in the wake of their exit. The Witch only laughed at her expression, prodding gently at the screen before her as it lit up with the glow of an incoming transmission.

“I take it you’ve never seen Druids before, healer.” She hummed, fingers tapping away in the silence, “My children are something to behold.”

There were more of those creatures? And they _all_ had powers like that?

The hope that had begun to bubble in Mira’s chest deflated once more and she hugged her arms tighter to her torso, ignoring the residual burn of her oath tattoo.

Not only was the Galra Empire large and pervasive, they employed the likes of this Witch and her children. What could Voltron hope to do against such a mighty foe?

What was so special about these Paladins and the Lions they piloted that they thought they could succeed?

Movement drew her eye from the back of the Witch’s shoulders and she blinked in surprise at the two Terrian warriors staring at her with pained expressions. Wounds covered them both in varying degrees of severity and she clenched her teeth against the urge to fly to their side.

Kitar pressed one shaking finger to his mouth, his other hand clasped tightly with Leandro’s far less injured counterpart. Leandro made brief eye contact, one side of his face a bloody mess of road burn and the feathery path of a lightning strike.

They…they were the ones who had injured the Druid so badly?

As impressive as that fact was, what did they think they could do now? They were bruised and bloodied from their previous battle. Surely they didn’t think they could do anything against the Witch standing before her?

“Commander Callidas, this is a surprise. I had not expected to receive a transmission from you until you were en route with my Paladins.” Haggar said coldly, a promise of punishment in her words, “What is the meaning of this?”

“We’re under attack, My Lady.” The Commander gasped, the conversation at hand drawing Mira’s attention from the two wounded Terrians to the Galran on the screen.

The residual fire and debris of an explosion filled the screen behind him, long trails of heated metal dripping from the ceiling in a thick goopy mess. The commander himself looked singed and pained, his shoulders held gingerly almost as if his back pained him.

“Voltron has infiltrated the base.”

Mira grasped the folds of her robe tightly in her hands, a deep guilt and fear pervading her being.

Time was up.

“Where are my Paladins now?” Haggar asked simply, a strange crackle of electricity surrounding her hands.

“They’ve escaped their cells. I was temporarily incapacitated by one of them but my men have traced their location to one of the containment areas. Both the Red and Blue Paladins are armed but they’re heavily injured.”

“It was my hope that they could be taken alive.” Haggar hummed, fingers tapping once more on the keys before her, “But this can also serve a greater purpose for the Empire. Commander, you have permission to detonate the two containment units within the base that you command.”

“Detonating both of those would destroy this planet, My Lady.”

“I am well aware of the destructive force your bombs contain, Callidas.” Haggar snapped, the Galra on screen flinching violently, “But the people of Libanis have already proven themselves to be traitors to the Galra Empire. They have aided and abetted our enemies. They have slain our dignitaries.  Their leader had reneged on his word and kept resources that could have been used to fuel our campaign.”

The cold passion of her words made Mira numb, her heart dropping to her feet. The commander on screen seemed to perk up with every uttered word, eyes lighting up in recognition.

“You are correct, Lady Haggar. It will be done. Vrepit sa.”

The screen clicked off abruptly, quiet shuddering breaths filling the room. It took a few moments for Mira to realize those noises were coming from her.

The Galra were going to destroy her home and every creature that lived upon it. Nothing would be left of Libanis and its people.

They were all going to die here.

“Surely you didn’t think we were going to ignore your little insurrection?” Haggar laughed, turning to regard her with those sharp, poisonous eyes once more, “Any threats to the Empire must be eliminated.”

“You’re a monster.” Mira spat, “You’re all monsters!”

“It does no good to argue with those who cannot see the bigger picture.” Haggar sighed, “And not to worry Terrians. Your involvement has not been overlooked. Punishment will be forthcoming. But in the meantime, I believe it is best that I make a passing attempt at retrieving the Paladins promised to me. Their deliverance will more than make up for the loss this planet will pose.”

The doors behind Mira burst open once more and it was all Mira could do to roll out of their path, bloodied hands surging forward to pull her out of harm’s way.

Before she could breathe her thanks to the Terrians, her jaw dropped at the figure that stood in the opened doors, long white hair bound tightly and a staff pointed directly at Zarkon’s Witch.

“You won’t be going anywhere, Haggar.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are!  
> I don't have an estimated post date for the rest of what was Chapter 6, especially cause I have a lot to it that still needs to be written. So. Many. Moving. Parts.  
> Its safe to say that we are coming up on the end of this story and I'm so excited to bring it to its full conclusion. So please, bear with me! We'll get through this!


	8. Higher Now Than Ever Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Battle for Libanis comes to its inevitable conclusion and we truly Burn Down the Highway Skyline.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, lovely and patient readers.  
> Tis I, Fae.  
> I humbly present to you the absolute monster that is this chapter. A monstrosity of working parts and angst that has been several months in the making.  
> Enjoy!

Allura’s fingers shook slightly as she grasped her staff, the Altean weapon staying steady as she pointed it in Haggar’s direction.

Her heart sat high in her throat as she faced down the fallen Altean before her. Despite what the others thought, she’d far from forgotten the last time she’d engaged Haggar in combat.

And this time, there were no Blade members to watch her back.

She had no backup to depend on if things went south.

Of course, Haggar was also alone, the room empty of any of her Druid followers. Allura’s gaze caught momentarily on the trio huddled against the wall, a familiar face making dread swoop in her gut.

At least Kivarran’s plot hadn’t managed to kill Kitar. She could still keep her promise to Inari.

“Princess Allura.” Haggar said simply, rage visible in the tension of her shoulders, the narrowing of her eyes, “What a most unwelcome surprise. The Terrians had claimed to have you distracted.”

“Not every Terrian agreed with Kivarran’s plans. In fact, he represented an incredibly slim minority.” Allura hummed, “It would take far more than that to keep me from my Paladins, Haggar.”

“So it would seem.” Haggar snapped, eyes lighting up viciously, “And yet you are separated from them once more, child.”

Allura fought down the ice that threatened to flood her veins, a promise of violence in Haggar’s last words.

She _was_ separated from them again. Separated from them in an effort to give them the time they needed to recover their missing pieces and finally complete their mission.

She had to have faith in her Paladins. They were strong, they’d proven that beyond a doubt.

If Allura could hold Haggar here, the Paladins would have little to fear from the Witch’s hands.

Allura simply had to hold the line.

Now if only it were that easy.

“I do so out of necessity. It is a task of vital importance that I stop you here. Your reign of terror _must_ come to an end.” Allura replied quietly, intensity and passion in her words.

Even if she was quaking in her armor, she refused to show Haggar the slightest ounce of fear. It would prove to be her undoing.

“Bold words, Princess.” Haggar laughed, the tension in her shoulders never waning, “But we won’t be having our final battle today.”

“I don’t think that is up to you to decide.”

Anger sparked in Allura’s chest and she did her best to hold her temper in check, her jaw clenching tightly under the strain.

Did Haggar really look down on her so wholly? Was she so confident in her abilities, in her powers, that she could decide when their final battle would take place?

Haggar’s condescension only plucked at the strings of Allura’s worn and stressed hold on her temper and Allura brandished her staff with angry intent, the fury of Haggar’s dismissal helping to burn away the few remaining wisps of her fear regarding the confrontation before her.

A shrill alarm ripped through the still, charged air, shattering the tension like a pane of glass. The Witch before her startled slightly at the sudden noise and Allura took her opportunity to surge forward, pushing through her own surprise in an effort to take advantage of Haggar’s brief moment of hesitation.

Even as her anger made her actions impulsive, it steadied her hands and her staff whistled through the air with expert precision. She braced herself for the recoil of meeting with resistance.

But it never came.

Her staff screamed through empty air and she barely twisted it in time for it to meet Haggar’s glowing claws in a shower of sparks.

“A sneak attack? Taking advantage of my inattention?” Haggar chuckled, “How very dishonorable of you, Princess.”

“There is no honor in war.” Allura hissed, batting Haggar away with a mighty heave, “Especially this war.”

That was a fact she’d learned the hard way.

Allura had clung tightly to the ideals of honor and justice that her father had espoused. In the beginning, she’d done her best to impress such ideals upon her Paladins, pushing the Paladin code and her beliefs upon them.

Especially in regards to how they confronted the Galra.

Of course, that was before Hunk and Lance had been badly hurt in a fight where their opponents had not held themselves to the same tenets.

It had been one of the few real arguments she’d ever had with Shiro and she’d taken his words to heart ever since then.

They were few standing strong against a vast multitude. Survival and their goal had to be paramount.

There were other ways to be honorable outside of combat.

To be honorable in this warzone would cost them their lives.

“Isn’t your precious honor what makes you the hope against my Emperor’s glorious Empire?” Haggar baited, striking again and again, claws ringing against Altean steel in a cacophonous crash, “What makes you think you can do _better_ than Zarkon?”

Allura twisted her staff smoothly to deflect Haggar’s half-hearted attacks, her barbed words fulfilling their intent of further incensing their target.

It wasn’t as if Allura hadn’t thought about it, especially in some of her darker moments. They were brief thoughts of molding the foundations of Zarkon’s Empire to build a new Altea, a new empire of peace and prosperity, of innovation and advancement.

But it was never a thought she dwelled upon for long.

It was wrong to force planets under her will, even if it was for the greater good.

As she had learned from her Paladins’ recounting of Earth history, every despot began as someone who believed in fervent ideals and sometimes even honorable deeds.

To trample over others in the pursuit of the greater good was not something Allura would let herself do.

“I do not wish to take Zarkon’s place.” Allura proclaimed, pushing Haggar’s hands to the side before landing a resounding kick to the Witch’s midsection.

A zap of quintessence made her withdraw her foot with a hiss, Haggar’s yellow eyes burning brightly with amusement.

“So you seek only to dismantle the only unifying force the universe has known for millennia and leave nothing in its place?” Haggar taunted, “Even if you kill Zarkon, even if you kill me, there will be others. Your fight won’t be over for as long as your pathetic lives last.”

“Voltron will defeat them, just as Voltron will defeat you.” Allura snapped, her own quintessence buzzing at her fingertips, almost as if in response to the bite of Haggar’s, “Try as you might to bait and distract me, Witch, but I know what I came for.”

“A pity you won’t be leaving with it then.” Haggar cackled, “You were a fool to think you could waltz in here alone and be _enough_ to stop me.”

Allura’s heart threatened to stop in her chest as Haggar disappeared from her sight once more. Panic swelled in her veins and she wheeled around, trying to keep her senses alert for Haggar’s next move, breath quickening in her lungs.

A battle of smoke and mirrors had never been Allura’s strong point.

She could certainly hold her own in missions that involved a certain degree of stealth and subterfuge but it wasn’t to her liking.

Loathe as she was to admit it, Keith’s preferred method of rushing in with guns blazing was her favored tactic as well.

It was only years of education and counsel that helped her to see strategy beyond that.

But this?

There was no true strategy to finding and fighting Zarkon’s Witch. She was flighty, cunning, and above all, cruel.

Allura didn’t know what to expect and that knowledge was all the more terrifying with the weight of those that depended on her success.

A weak war cry pulled her from her focus and she couldn’t help but turn to where the Libanian healer had fled, the two Terrian warriors injured but more than eager to shield her.

It was one of those very same warriors that had bellowed his wrath, his blue eyes piercing even through the gore that splattered him. He brandished a Galra blade expertly, its arc sweeping through the air towards the scourge of the Galra Empire. Allura was moving before she could even comprehend the scene before her.

She’d been so caught up in her mission and her fight that she hadn’t stopped to consider the potential hostages in the room.

It was such an amateur mistake.

Even as she sprang into motion, Allura knew that she wouldn’t cross the distance in time. She’d be too late to protect them.

Haggar had planned well.

Electricity sparked from those clawed fingers almost as if in slow motion, the robed arm drifting in a wide arc as if to strike all three of them.

She wasn’t going to make it!

Three lives would end at Haggar’s claws but Allura knew that it would be her own hands that would be forever stained. Even if she defeated Zarkon’s Witch here, it would be Haggar’s victory.

“No! Your fight is with me!”

Her cry echoed across the room, her voice masking the electrical discharge of a blaster shot. The bolt sailed through the air, narrowly missing the pointed tip of Allura’s ear and scorching her ivory hair.

The shot arced and struck Haggar’s sparking hand dead on, a strangled cry leaving the Witch as she curled around the injured limb. In her moment of distraction, the blue eyed Terrian took his chance, jagged Galra blade screaming through the air as if to rend her from shoulder to hip.

Allura closed the gap as Haggar began to react, her form flickering with the violet crackle of her quintessence. Urging her own quintessence through her weapon, Allura swung her staff, the impact with Haggar’s flickering silhouette echoing through the room with a near deafening crash.

The collision of quintessence knocked Allura backwards, a wave of concussive force sending her head over heels across the venue, chairs and a small pew crashing beneath her.

A dull thunk echoed and Allura lifted her dazed head in confusion, a frown creasing her face as wetness warmed her skin above her left eye. Her head spun and she groaned lowly, urging her body to obey.

A sound of tearing flesh and the wheeze of a stifled cry answered her dazed look, the scene resolving itself once her vision had ceased spinning.

The very same percussive force that had flung her across the room like a child’s toy had not spared Haggar.

The Witch had instead been thrown forward…

Right into the Terrian’s blade.

“For Honor. For Family.” The Terrian spat, his dripping blade held aloft to strike the final blow, “For the Mother!”

Quintessence shrieked from Haggar’s bloodied hands, dancing along the edge of the blade that injured her.

Rage burned over her sickly features and she wrenched the blade from the Terrian’s nerveless fingers, her magically fueled force more than a match for his waning strength.

“This foolishness will cease.” She thundered, her voice echoing with her fury.

Long tendrils of magical energy snaked from Haggar’s fingertips, the sheer force and scale beyond anything that Allura could have imagined.

This.

This was Haggar at her most serious, at the height of her fury.

Allura had never felt so helpless.

A few more blaster shots split the air but they were batted away like mere toys, the Witch’s snarl never deviating from its intended target.

“Perish, Terrian. And do not fear.” Haggar smirked, “The rest of your people will be joining you soon.”

Nascent quintessence sprang at Allura’s fingertips, her fear and helplessness driving her life force through her hands.

Helplessness quickly turned to frustrated rage and then to determination.

Her Paladins were counting on her! 

If she failed here, they would all be in grievous danger. It would be more than a loss for Voltron. Libanis and Terria hovered on the brink of destruction, their fates held in the collective hands of Allura and her Paladins.

The consequences were too great to even consider failure.

Ignoring the trembling of her limbs, Allura propelled herself across the room, throwing her staff like a spear at the mass of quintessence that surrounded Haggar’s form.

The sturdy metal proved to be little more than a momentary nuisance but Allura kept moving, focused entirely on the form of the witch before her.

A hum filled the air of the venue, the frequency threatening as it reverberated through Allura’s chest. As she watched, Haggar’s own movements seemed to hesitate, a thick feeling akin to anticipation building in the air.

The background hum of electricity on the blocked doors abruptly went silent, the power in the room rapidly redirecting as the hum increased in frequency.

Now that she thought about it, that hum sounded _viciously_ familiar.

However, before the thought could resolve itself into recognition, Allura once again found herself meeting the floor, a far more familiar Terrian tackling her out of the way of what she could only describe as a cannon blast.

In the split second of Kitar’s maneuver, she could hear a screech of pain, a noise far more terrifying and primal than any other she’d heard in the past.

The blast that had been meant for her streaked past and collided with the far wall in a mass of fire and rubble.

Allura could do no more than blink in the aftermath, her hazy eyes darting between Kitar and the newly created hole in the wall.

“What the frell was that?” Kitar swore violently, coughing in the miasma of smoke and dust.

A short bark of laughter answered him and Allura lifted her stunned gaze to where Leandro sat, the wall crumbling only a few feet from him. “It was close.” The heavily wounded Terrian smirked, some of the fight leaving his body.

The healer from before sat well away from the destruction, a figure in glowing purple armor standing beside her, hands still grasping their blaster.

The very same blaster that had distracted Haggar long enough to save Leandro.

But where had one of the Blades of Marmora come from?

“Is she dead?” The healer said quietly, hands gripping her tattered and bloodstained tabard,   
Did the Palace defenses kill her?”

Palace defenses? Perhaps they had been correct in their far more stealthy approach. Even a Lion of Voltron would have had a hard time with that blast.

Pulling herself from her befuddled confusion, Allura craned her neck, the rest of her body exhausted and half-pinned by Kitar. It was difficult to see with the residual smoke and dust hanging in the air but Allura tried valiantly.

It would be a turning point unlike any other in this long war. To take out Haggar would be akin to crippling the Empire in a truly vital way.

No more Robeasts.

No more planets drained of quintessence.

Without her leadership, the druids would scatter and crumble to the winds.

But would that shot from before be enough? It had enough power to blast this room to pieces but Haggar wielded quintessence with a mastery that shook Allura to her core.

Even a shot from an ion cannon might not be enough to defeat her.

“I will check.” The Blade offered, his voice hesitant and shaky even through the mask that obscured his features.

His voice immediately drew the Terrians’ attention, their expressions immediately darkening in distrust.

“Why should we believe you, Galra?” Leandro spat, the torn side of his face making his expression grotesque.

The brief flicker of hesitation made Allura sit up at last, powering through her pain and vertigo to level a glare at the two wounded warriors.

She’d been like them once. Blinded by her tragedy and anger. She’d been willing to extend her hatred to the entirety of the Galra race.

But…that kind of mindset would only breed more tragedy.

There were good Galra. Innocent Galra.

Galra whom she considered allies.

A half-Galra she considered family.

“You should believe them because they saved your life. They saved all our lives.” Allura retorted sharply, her chest aching with each breath, “Without their interference, we’d be far worse off. Without that shot, Haggar would have _killed_ you. The very least you could do is to treat them with dignity.”

She could feel the stunned gaze of the Marmorite on her but she didn’t change the course of her glare, two toned eyes staring down the two wounded warriors. After a moment, Kitar dropped her gaze, Leandro reluctantly following suit.

Satisfied that her point had been made, Allura finally returned the stare of the Marmora agent, a bit surprised to see that the mask from before had been dropped, allowing the full force of his stunned countenance to meet her own.

“Thank you.” He said hesitantly, golden eyes flicking quickly to the two warriors greeting him with resigned frowns.

Allura immediately made to struggle to her feet, Kitar jumping away as if he’d been burned before scrambling back to help her when it was apparent that her injuries were perhaps more severe than she’d estimated.

“Thank _you_ for helping us.” Allura returned earnestly, steeling herself to stand on her own, “I will accompany you to check on Haggar. If she truly is dead, I wish to see it with my own eyes.”

The Marmora agent nodded rapidly before moving toward the steadily clearing hole in the wall. Allura stumbled after him with shaky legs, waving away Kitar’s attempts to help. She picked her way through the rubble, watching her steps carefully and nearly running right into the back of the Marmora agent in her caution.

“Well?” She hummed, peeking her head around him to look for herself.

Only to find nothing but the thick splatters of blood and tattered scraps of the same material that made up Haggar’s ever present cloak.

“She escaped.” The Marmorite croaked, his voice far more fearful than Allura would have imagined he’d sound, “We should contact the other Paladins. She could be after them right now.”

“With her wounds, it’s unlikely.” Allura huffed, disappointment warring with a strange brand of relief in her veins, “No. The Witch has probably fled. There’s only one place she’d go now.”

“And where’s that?” Kitar’s voice carried, his dark eyes peering around the corner of the ruined wall, unease clear in his features and the tension in his shoulders.

“She’s gone running back to the very vessel that carried her here.” Allura smirked, “Warslek’s ship.”

“Oh dear.”

Allura couldn’t help but grin at the soft words of the Marmora agent beside her.

Oh dear indeed.

~~~~

Pain.

That was all that Lance’s world had really come down to after Pidge and Keith had managed to push him into leaving them behind.

Every breath was a special kind of agony, his reopened wound soaking the increasingly saturated fabric of his tunic faster and faster as he pushed himself to get just one more step.

Then another.

Then another.

He couldn’t afford to think of the phantom aches that were running through his limbs, couldn’t bear to consider what Keith and Pidge were fending off just to give him this slim chance to make it to the Green Lion.

Lance could understand their reasoning.

Totes. 100% percent.

But that didn’t mean he liked it or even agreed with it. They were down there fighting, alone, and hurt in Keith’s case.

Keith had even more than a handicap than his own pain, particularly with the way agony threatened to steal the very breath from Lance’s lungs. Fighting right now would be a special kind of hell.

And Keith _was_ fighting.

He paused for just a moment at the first landing, his breath coming in heavy, wheezy pants.

Just how much more damage had he taken from that explosion? He’d been closest to the wall when everything had gone to hell in a hat basket and even with Keith curling around him, the impact had been enough to make him black out for a few heart wrenching seconds.

He was getting pretty sick of getting knocked out.

( _I’d imagine that it isn’t very fun.)_

“Now isn’t the time for your sass, pretty boy.” Lance groused, ignoring the slight tone of amusement his grumbling had caused.

( _You’d worry if I wasn’t sassing you.)_

“I’m already worried.” Lance whispered, pushing forward once more, “I shouldn’t have left you two behind. I know why it was a good idea so don’t even give me that look.”

( _You can’t even see me.)_

“I know that look. I don’t have to see it.”

Wincing, Lance forced his body even harder, trying his best to take the stairs as quickly as his injured form would allow.

It was nice, at least being able to hear Keith’s thoughts like this. It gave him comfort in a way that he didn’t really want to look at too closely.

( _I think you just like keeping tabs on me.)_

“Someone has to.” Lance laughed, swearing as soon as the words had left him, the effort proving to be more than he could really handle.

Just like that, Keith’s teasing words went darker, his previous guilt and determination filtering in.

( _You need to focus. We’re counting on you.)_

Lance did his best to ignore the underlying tones of self-blame that he could hear in the threads of Keith’s thoughts.

“Not your fault, Mullet.” He breathed, pushing forward again and pressing a hand to the wound at his side in an effort to try and stem the flow, “I appreciate a little bit of distraction.”

( _I think I’ve distracted you more than enough.)_

“Well, don’t take all the credit.” Lance frowned, Keith’s guilt making his breath stutter slightly, “I’d like to think I’ve done my own fair share of being distracting.”

( _I wasn’t the one who got stab- ignore that.)_

The rising guilt in Keith’s thoughts was tinged with frustration both at himself and at the situation.

Lance could honestly relate.

They’d been through hell the last couple of days, both physically and emotionally. First, the pining hell they’d put themselves through from a lack of communication and a general abundance of misunderstanding.

And then everything that gone wrong from that moment on.

Lance was ready _to go home_.

Breathing a heavy, shuddering sigh, Lance dragged his weary body further, eyes catching on light just a little bit higher. He pushed again, blood smearing the wall and pain blanking his mind for several long moments.

When it passed, he exhaled deeply through his teeth and soldiered on, his thoughts inadvertently going back to the boy he’d held a torch for since the moment he met him.

He’d known almost from the beginning that Keith was stubborn to a fault.

It was one of the many things he loved about him.

That stubbornness. That insistent drive. That hardheaded determination.

It was made Keith, well…. _Keith._

But that didn’t change the fact that it was infuriating as hell.

That stubbornness wasn’t doing either of them any favors right now. His hard-headedness was throwing them in circles again and Lance couldn’t stand to see him hurt like that anymore.

“How many times do I have to tell you that what happened to me wasn’t your fault?” Lance breathed, a small part of him despairing over Keith’s insistence on the lion’s share of the blame, “They were looking for us. What happened was going to happen regardless of how flustered I was over your flirting. It was an ambush.”

( _I should have been with you.)_

A larger part of Lance was growing increasingly thankful for the bond between their thoughts. Especially when it came to figuring out his rather taciturn husband.

How long would Keith have held onto his self-directed blame without it? How long would it have taken Lance to pry it out of him?

( _Lance…)_

“I know, I know.” Lance hummed, trying to tinge his thoughts with reassurance and as much love as he could funnel into the bond, “We’ll talk at home. But I’ll hold you to it.”

( _I wouldn’t expect anything less.)_

The light was growing brighter and Lance buckled down, moving as fast as his body would allow. Pain blanked his mind of everything but his goal, his side screaming with every step and his head pounding in time with his heartbeat.

Just a little further.

He just had to make it to Green. Pidge kept her first aid kit stocked.

Mostly because everyone had a bad habit of jumping in front of her when it got sketchy but still.

_He just had to make it to Green._

Lance barreled through the door with his less sore shoulder, the bright light of Libanis’ midafternoon sun nearly blinding him after the darkness of the stairwell. He stumbled to a stop, shielding his eyes and peering across the relatively flat landscape around him.

Pidge hadn’t been kidding. This place was fucking huge up close.

His vision returned in torturously slow increments, spots dancing along the edges. He swept his gaze over the roof, heart still pounding in his chest as he tried to get a feel for the next leg of his journey.

The Green Lion couldn’t have been too far. Pidge wouldn’t have tried so hard for this stairwell if Green wasn’t nearby.

The briefest glimmer of light off the panel of a particle barrier caught his attention at last and he couldn’t help the broad grin that spread across his face.

There she was.

Finally, something was going right.

( _Please hurry, Lance.)_

Hope buoyed his limbs and he emerged fully from the shadow of the stairwell exit, his steps clumsy and slow without the wall to support himself. Libanis’ oppressive heat threatened to steal the air from his lungs but he powered on, spirits high and goal set.

He only had to go this small expanse. It couldn’t be more than fifty feet.

_He could do this._

Lance could feel Keith’s hope surging with his own, the focus on battle calming the Red Paladin’s guilt and stress like nothing else.

He really couldn’t help the snort that pulled itself from his chest.

Fighting had always been Keith’s go to method of venting his stress and frustration.

Lance could definitely think of a few other… _physical_ _activities_ that he’d prefer.

They also including sweating.

( _Stop that.)_

“Who, me?” Lance whispered, still taking an exorbitant amount of glee in answering Keith’s thoughts aloud, “Nothing but pure thoughts here, buddy. Maybe you’re the pervert.”

Lance’s face immediately flushed at the sheer surge of what he could only describe as an uncomfortably potent mix of lust and longing over the steadily expanding bond between their minds.

It ebbed almost immediately but not without leaving behind a few grasping, lingering tendrils that Lance eagerly responded to in kind. The wave tapered off with a hint of amusement that rapidly turned into utter embarrassment and a deep sense of self-frustrated guilt.

After a moment or two, the amusement returned and Lance blinked in surprise.

( _Maybe I am.)_

“I…you, you are a very quick learner.” Lance coughed, still a bit floored by the emotions Keith had sent his way so quickly, particularly the first bit, “Focusing. We were doing that. Life or death situation. Yup. That was the thing.”

The equivalent of a mental snort came across the bond and Lance frowned in indignation.

( _You can dish it out, but you can’t take it….Nope. Nope. Fuck. Nope, we’re not doing this. La la la, can’t hear you. Fighting now.)_

Lance couldn’t help the startled bark of laughter that burst from him at the somewhat childish response, his side spasming in pain.

Good God, Keith was going to give _himself_ whiplash at this point.

“No worries, samurai.” Lance teased, eyes finally clearing of the spots and adjusting to the brightness around him, “You can flirt all you want when we get home.”

( _Thought that was your job.)_

Lance opened his mouth to retort but paused when an abrupt gleam of sunlight on metal nearly blinded him.

“Unrecognized biorhythm. Engaging defense protocols. Fire at will.” A smooth robotic voice boomed, the words filling Lance with abject terror.

Oh, fuck.

He really couldn’t catch a break, could he?

As the hum of a charging weapon filled the air, he pushed his injured body into a clumsy run, all too aware of the open space of the roof and what a prime target he made.

( _Lance?!)_

Keith’s panicked thoughts flowed through his mind like water but Lance did his best to shrug them off. He couldn’t afford to distract Keith when he was fighting but with the pain coursing through him and the weapon trained upon him, he didn’t think he could really spare the brain power to reassure him.

( _That’s not helping, Lance! Its more distracting to feel how scared you are and only getting radio static!)_

Guess he was getting a bit better about not broadcasting every single thought he had to Keith.

Progress.

An increase in pitch of the charging weapon pulled him firmly back in the moment and he raked his eyes over the enormous expanse of dark grey that surrounded him for hundreds of feet in each direction.

If only he could figure out where the weapon was firing from. If he knew that, he could seek cover and maybe make himself a much harder target to hit.

But…

This roof was ridiculously huge. There were any number of places that a gun could possibly be stationed. It would be hard to anticipate them all.

Maybe….maybe he could wait for the first shot and pray like hell that he had enough energy to dodge.

( _Please. Please stay safe, Lance.)_

“You got it, Mullet.” He breathed, the relief coming from Keith’s end of the bond steeling his resolve.

Carefully, he slowed his clumsy run to a much less painful walk, his bayard springing to life in his bloodied hands.

He would probably only get one shot at this and the very thought pulled a wry smirk to his face.

Story of his life.

( _I trust you, sharpshooter. We’re counting on you.)_

“Hang on just a little bit longer.” Lance hissed, every sense on high alert.

( _I could keep this up all day.)_

Allowing himself a brief smile, Lance concentrated, straining his mind to the limit as his knees trembled, every slow loping step leading him closer to the Green Lion and the promise of reinforcements.

Of rescue.

Of an end to this entire clusterfuck of a situation.

Despite his concentration, he nearly missed the actual moment the rooftop security fired, his eyes barely catching on the large cannon before he had to dive out of the way. The moment of hesitance his injured body forced on him cost him dearly and he locked a shriek behind his teeth as the blast grazed the top of one arm.

The wound burned with an intensity that made his vision flutter black on the edges and his heart throb loudly in his ears.

Compared to the new screaming of his shoulder, his reopened stab wound was practically silent for a few blissful moments.

( _Fuck!)_

The instant he hit the ground, he pushed himself into a roll and leveled his bayard at the now smoking weapon, its recharging hum already filling the air. His chest heaved for breath but he forced his arms to steady as best he could, fitting one bleary eye to the scope of his rifle.

His arm jerked several times as he lined up his shot with the weapon, experience leading him to aim for the sensitive pivot that would allow the weapon to swivel and catch him. The pain in his arm was nearly blinding but he pushed through, teeth grit so hard that his jaw ached.

The hum increased in pitch and his heartbeat surged in response.

Only one chance to get this right. If he missed right now…

_There’s no way he’d dodge the next shot._

Exhaling as deeply as he dared, Lance imposed his will on his shuddering body and lined up.

Time seemed to slow and every millisecond seemed to drag on into eternity. The trigger pulled almost as if in slow-motion, the recoil jerking his injured shoulder but he held strong, the singular blast meeting its mark just as the barrel of the rooftop turret began to light up.

For a moment, Lance’s heart sank to his feet, the turret sparking briefly but continuing to light up. Just as he made to move, the sparks increased in intensity, the built up charge rebounding on the weapon.

He barely ducked in time as the turret exploded, shrapnel and debris managing to fly near his head and skitter past his feet.

His breath left his lungs in a rush, the moment of sheer relief weakening his willpower enough that the pain from his newly injured shoulder slammed into him like a truck. He wheezed out a broken cry, uninjured arm clutching at his shoulder, the wound searing at his weakened senses.

After a few long seconds of fighting valiantly against the encroaching tide of unconsciousness, the pain dimmed to something more manageable and Lance sucked in several heaving lungfuls of air.

That had been too close.

_Way too fucking close._

Staggering forward, Lance locked his eyes on the semi-translucent particle barrier that surrounded the Green Lions, the pain sufficiently distracting him from Keith’s sudden radio silence over their bond.

He trudged as fast as his waning willpower could force his drained body, his limbs choosing this moment to remind him that he’d really only broken his fever less than 48 hours prior.

Any other time, there would be no way he’d be strong enough to move, let alone drag himself across a roof after being shot by the rooftop’s defenses.

Of course, at this point, he was a little too scared to question it.

Maybe Mira was just that good.

With trembling hands, Lance leaned heavily against the outside of Green’s barrier, chest burning as he desperately tried to catch his breath.

It had taken him less time than he’d expected but every second was counting against not only him but the others fighting in the containment area too.

He had to keep going.

Step one accomplished.

He knocked weakly at the barrier before him, craning his head back to look at the unmoving Lion before him.

“Green?” He called, voice cracking hard as he addressed her, “Green, please. You have to let me in.”

Silence greeted him and the barrier beneath his fingers remained as sturdy and unyielding as ever. A brief surge of frustration overwhelmed him and he let his head thunk gently against the barrier before him.

Why wasn’t she listening?

Blue was always willing to open up for one of the team in an emergency. Especially if she had any idea that he might be in danger.

Didn’t Green sense the danger they were in? That Pidge was in?

Lance had never missed his Lion more. It was weird not feeling her constant support and love in the back of his mind. He’d known that this mission was going to be rough but if he’d known just _how rough_ , he’d have pushed harder to hide Red and Blue nearby.

He missed Blue so badly.

His shoulder throbbed slowly, the wave of pain threatening to overwhelm once again. He hissed out a shaky breath, body drawn up tight to ride out the wave.

Clenching his teeth, he peered up at Green once more, knuckles rapping gently against the barrier.

“I know I’m not your Paladin.” He whispered, voice reedy, “But I need your help to make sure she comes out of this safely. That we all come out of this safely. I need to get a message to the Castle and you’re the only way I’ll be able to reach them. So, please.”

“Let me in.”

The barrier hummed under his fingers and Lance felt some of his hope begin to dim, a special kind of despair sapping at his being before he viciously pushed it back.

He was the fucking Blue Paladin.

And that role was about faith.

Faith, adaptability, and acceptance.

So even if Green was currently being stubborn _as fuck_ , he was going to have some damn _faith._

He’d gotten this far on nothing more than his love for a stubborn boy and faith that he was doing good in the universe.

He could go a little further.

Lance knocked again, harder this time, eyebrows furrowed intently. This time the barrier rippled outward from the tap of his fingers and the Green Lion shifted, her eyes flashing with color.

She seemed almost hesitant and Lance barely dared to breathe, eyes tracking her slow movement.

( _…please hurry.)_

Worry for Keith and Pidge surged to the surface of his mind and he willed Green to move faster, to accept his brief intrusion.

He wasn’t Pidge. He would never be Pidge.

“Please. They’re down there fighting alone.”

The tension in the air shifted and Lance couldn’t help the sigh of relief that left him when Green’s particle barrier vanished.

He was a little less thrilled at the abrupt sensation of falling forward.

He pin wheeled his uninjured arm wildly, projected fall thankfully mitigated to a heavy stumble, teeth clenching tightly to keep a cry of pain locked in his throat.

The sound of metallic grumbling caught his attention and he froze as Green lowered her muzzle to the ground before him, an atmosphere of impatience surrounding her.

Huh. She must have really been more worried than he’d thought. Green could be just as stubborn as Red when she felt like it.

“Thank you.” He rasped, inclining his head slightly.

A little politeness never hurt. His Mama didn’t raise a heathen.

_(Debatable.)_

“Don’t be rude.”

Weakly, he made his way up the ramp into Green’s cockpit, a select few screens lighting up helpfully. Lance gratefully opened the line of communication to the Castle, deeply conscious of the increasing apprehension trickling through Keith’s end of their mind bond, his feelings badly hidden under the snark of his thoughts.

He didn’t have time to waste.

_Please, someone answer._

Just as he began to cast his eyes about for Pidge’s first aid kit, intent on patching up as best he could and going back to help, the line opened and the curious faces of Hunk and Coran stared back at him.

Lance wasn’t sure what to make of the slowly dawning horror on the faces of his best friend and space uncle.

“Lance, _what happened_?!”

Judging by the worry trickling in on Hunk’s face, he probably looked a _lot_ worse than he’d expected.

He had been smearing the walls and floor the whole way up here with blood.

And he got shot. That was a thing.

( _Shot by what?!)_

“That is a very long and complicated story that I don’t have time to get into. Interplanetary political intrigue, blah blah.” Lance rushed, frowning at the slight paleness to Hunk’s face.

What had happened to _him?_

“Lance, my boy, you have to tell us what’s going on. We can’t help you unless we know more.” Coran interjected smoothly, thick eyebrows furrowed with worry.

“We need help.” Lance breathed, trying desperately to calm himself down.

They needed him to fill them in. They needed to know what was going on.

He didn’t have time for flippancy, as much as it pained him. He could use a bit of levity in this whole mess to be completely honest.

“This whole facility is a giant bomb. Keith and Pidge stayed behind to give me time to get to you and I know they’re fighting down there. The whole base knows about our escape and we haven’t been able to get in contact with Shiro.

“I was wondering why Number Five hadn’t checked in yet.” Coran hummed in consideration, moustache nearly hiding the deep frown on his face, “Is something wrong with her as well? You look like you’ve gone through a warzone.”

“No, Pidge was okay when she and Keith sent me ahead.” Lance assured him, ignoring the ache in his body, “Keith and I did get caught in an explosion though.”

The panic he’d been suppressing during the escape slipped past his careful grasp and he could feel the tightness in his chest as he babbled. Fuck.

They _really had_ come very close to dying here already. If he hadn’t heard the clicking, he and Keith might not have walked away from that explosion at all, let alone come out in mostly one piece.

Lance met Hunk’s intense stare, a part of him calming slightly at the determination he saw there.

“We’ll get a message to Shiro.” Coran promised, “He’s far closer to your present location. He’d get there sooner than the Castle or the Yellow Lion.”

“I’m on my way.” Hunk said simply, “I’ll fly as fast as Yellow can go. Just hold out a little longer.”

Relief effused his entire being and Lance gripped the top of the pilot’s chair before him to keep on his feet.

“I knew I could count on you guys.” He grinned, eyes finally landing on Pidge’s carefully labeled and packaged first aid kit.

Ignoring the noises of confusion from the screen before him, Lance pawed through the contents, letting out a brief laugh of triumph when he found the exact tube he was looking for.

It had been a godsend when they’d first found it and Lance intended to get back to Pidge and Keith as soon as possible.

Coran had not been keen on them using the foul-smelling, food-goo like substance as it did very little healing.

Lance was far more interested in its other properties.

Namely, the _extremely powerful_ numbing agent.

“You’re going back?!” Hunk hissed, a bit of panic and disbelief in his voice, “You’re barely standing, Lance.”

Lance looked up at his words, mouth curving into a grin at the sight of Hunk’s half-armored form before he processed Hunk’s words.

He must really look bad.

However, Lance was impressed by Hunk’s speed. He really was just gonna charge down to Libanis to help them. The mental image of him changing in the control deck threatened to make him chuckle but he suppressed it.

Laughing hurt a bit too much at the moment.

“Of course I’m going back.” Lance smirked, straightening his shoulders under two worried gazes, “Have you met my husband? Someone has to watch his back.”

( _I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.)_

This time Lance really did snort, a wince pulling at his lips even as he scrambled with his tunic to bare the wound above his hip to his ministrations and the blessed numbing of the Altean medicine.

“Gods above.”

Lance looked up at Coran’s hushed words, eyebrows furrowing the vaguely foreign look of anger on the gentle advisor’s face.

“Coran?”

“That should never have happened to you, Lance.” Coran said tightly, “And I am going to insist you go into a pod as soon as you return.”

Lance couldn’t help but pull a face at the thought of the pod but he sighed, nodding obediently.

“You got it, Coran.”

He could sense Hunk’s worried gaze on him and honestly, he could understand. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d agreed to go into a pod without a frankly ridiculous amount of complaining and whining. He didn’t like the pods, especially after the issue with the Castle’s AI going rogue and attempting to kill all of them.

For him to agree so quickly was sure to be worrisome.

Of course, he also felt like he’d been hit by a truck so the promise of a good sleep and no more pain sounded heavenly.

Instead of addressing it, though, he flashed Hunk a bright grin, the Altean medication already going to work.

At this point, he couldn’t think of many things that felt better than the abrupt absence of pain coursing through his system.

Maybe kissing Keith again but that wasn’t really something he needed to dwell on at the moment.

The burden lifted from him almost felt good enough to make him cry, a similar sensation pinging back at him from across the bond.

Lance couldn’t help the twinge of guilt that burned through him.

He’d been inflicting his pain on Keith as much as he’d been suffering through it himself.

To be honest, this mind bond thing was just a much a con as it was a pro.

He slowly capped the nearly empty tube, watching in silence as Coran switched between inspecting his ravaged form and handing Hunk pieces of his armor. Just as he turned, the relief from Keith’s end of the bond turned to fear, a band of pain reverberating around Lance’s throat.

He heard worried noises as he grasped at his skin, eyes flying wide with realization.

There was only one reason that something would have Keith by the throat.

Time was up.

“Keith?”

Fear beat through him, his voice trembling.

( _…commander)_

“Keith, what are you talking about? Pidge tased him.”

“Lance, who are you talking to?”

( _Lance, they’re going to destroy the planet. They’re going to detonate the bombs.)_

His heart sank to his feet at the brush of Keith’s thoughts in his mind.

No. _No!_

They couldn’t do that!

( _I’m not going to let them.)_

“You’re going to do something stupid.”

( _I’m going to do whatever I have to.)_

“Lance, what’s going on?” Hunk broke through, his helmet held under one arm.

“They’re going to destroy the planet.” Lance snapped harshly, meeting the confused eyes of the two in the Castle.

( _Stay in Green. Stay…safe.)_

_Like hell he would._

Anger and determination re-energized his tired limbs and he pushed his shoulders back, standing tall as he met his best friend’s eyes.

There wasn’t any time to lose. Judging by what he felt, Keith was pinned, probably being suspended in the air by the throat. Knowing him, he wasn’t making whatever his captor had planned easy.

But that didn’t mean he was going to stay up here in the safety of Pidge’s Lion like a proper damsel in distress.

He was just as much a Paladin as Keith was and it was time to remind him of that fact.

He’d had enough of this coddling. He’d had enough of letting Keith’s fear dictate how they were going to proceed. He was going down there and he was going to kick so much ass that Keith wouldn’t be able to forget who and what he was.

He was Lance _fucking_ McClain and he was the Paladin of the Blue Lion.

Hunk nodded once in understanding as a loud roar echoed in the bridge, a small part of Lance recognizing that particular cadence.

Even as far away as she was, Blue was encouraging him. Even when he couldn’t feel more than a speck of her presence, she had his back.

“Hurry.”

He patted the back of the pilot chair once, the Green Lion taking his hint and shutting down her screens, her mouth open for his exit.

Warning delivered and wounds treated, Lance started up a loping run, long legs eating up the dull concrete that had taken him what felt like an eternity to cross the first time. He wasn’t fully healed but he couldn’t feel _a damn thing_ and he was ready to take full advantage of that.

He ignored the burn in his chest from the run, the exertion of breaking his fever decreasing his normal cardiopulmonary stamina to levels he hadn’t experienced since coming to space. He let his breath come quicker, hand clutching his bayard so tightly he swore his knuckles might burst.

Practically leaping down the stairs, he stumbled a few times, his knees buckling slightly when he reached the landing, echoing words making their way to his ears.

“A pity. I wanted to give you the Galra honor of dying with your spouse.”

A heavy sigh.

“If only you’d stayed in Libanis’ fairy castle a little longer. The quintessence binding would have ensured you’d go together. Now he’ll slowly go mad without you. Shouldn’t be too long before he joins you though.”

Lance saw red for a long moment, his heartbeat pounding in his ears, fury ratcheting up to the nth degree.

He’d kill that commander.

Creeping closer, he let his blaster form, a barely there gasp still managing to echo.

“Its…it’s been an honor flying with you, Red.”

_Pidge._

And now he could see it.

Keith’s struggles were slowing, his fingers gripping weakly at the iron band around his throat, a pain that Lance could feel intimately. He felt the burn in his lungs, both from his run and from Keith’s pain.

Pidge’s tiny form was pinned to the floor under the unforgiving sole of a Galra soldier’s boot, her struggles just as weak as Keith’s.

He wouldn’t stand for this. He wouldn’t stand for _any of this_.

Boldly, he stepped forward, blaster lining up with practiced ease.

He was good. He was Voltron’s sharpshooter.

If anyone could get away with firing a blaster in a room full of bombs, it was him.

“Get your hands off my husband!”

His blaster shot lit up the darkness of the containment area, singing past Keith’s shoulder and hitting the Commander square in the throat. The tall Galra staggered back into the line of his men, Keith dropping to the floor like a stone, coughing and gasping like he’d just surfaced from the ocean.

The mass of lavender hesitated for a moment at the events that occurred before them, their brief stillness giving Keith all the time he needed to dive forward, red streaking through the air as he scooped up his bayard.

After that it became a free for all once more, a white and green figure joining Keith in the fray as Lance kept his bayard trained on the fight, sharp eyes taking shots and keeping his focus on protecting his teammates’ backs.

( _Why don’t you ever listen?)_

“You have a really shitty way of saying thank you.”

_(You’re right.)_

Lance couldn’t help but blink in surprise at that, edging slightly along the back wall to keep the fight in his line of vision.

_(I’m sorry. Thank you. Thank you for coming back for us.)_

“Always, Mullet man.” Lance grinned, frowning at a few of the Galra that managed to evade Keith and Pidge’s assault, their hands moving to their belts, “You know me. I’ll never leave you behind. Promise.”

What were those soldiers doing?

A horrendous crash in the ceiling above him pulled his attention away and he glanced up, frowning deeply. Was Green finally taking a more active role?

_(LANCE!)_

He looked down just in time to see blaster fire screaming across the containment area, the trajectory too far off to be aiming for him.

Almost as if in slow motion, he watched as the bolts impacted the line of bombs in front of him, the resulting explosion unfolding like an orange flower.

_(NO!)_

The force lifted him up once more, his body almost weightless. He closed his eyes tightly, heart clenching painfully in fear and regret.

“I love you.”

And the world grew silent.

~~~~

The heavy thuds of his pacing footsteps were barely audible over the shrill blare of the warning sirens that screamed through the ship.

Emergency lights bathed the bridge in sickly red hues and Warslek barely contained himself from snarling at the scurrying technicians panicking at their unresponsive terminals.

This whole mission had gone tail up far faster than Warslek had ever anticipated, his dreams of winning the glory of destroying Voltron slipping through his fingers like smoke.

Everything that could have gone wrong had done so, the inevitable failure of his ship’s internal system really driving that point home.

Rage filled his being, his palms itching with the need to take out his anger on the next poor soul to draw his gaze.

He should have known that this whole mission was going to go to shit from the moment Zarkon had ordered him to cart his blasted Witch to the outskirts of the Empire.

_The Witch._

Even the thought of her made Warslek bristle with offense and he slammed one meaty fist into the nearest surface, the already sparking terminal buckling under the force.

How dare she?

How _dare_ she deign to give him orders? To stand above him as if she were his superior? As if her words carried the same weight as Zarkon’s?

He _loathed_ her.

If his ship hadn’t decided to malfunction after he’d taken the Castle of Lions, he’d have left her behind on this pitiful speck of a planet and turned his attention to the warriors of Terria.

Something had gone wrong in their deal, perhaps even another betrayal and it had been far too long since his Lieutenant had checked in.

Let Callidas have the mewling weaklings of Libanis.

He’d give true honor to the Emperor by breaking the tribes of Terria and bringing them to heel.

To hell with the idea of letting the subjugated rule themselves. Galra domination was the only way, the only _true way_ , to maintain order.

The _situation_ on Libanis couldn’t illustrate his point any more clearly.

“Status report!” He barked, heavy footfalls making the younger technicians flinch with every thump.

Good.

Let them understand what sort of mood he was in. Let them feel the weight of his displeasure.

“I’m waiting.”

An older soldier popped her head up after a rapid-fire exchange with one of the technicians, a cowering man barely worthy of Warslek’s notice.

“It appears whatever infiltrated the system used our frequencies to hijack control of the base on Libanis. A remainder of the coding left behind has been locking the system and overloading safety protocols, sir.”

Warslek narrowed his eyes at the soldier, idly noting the slightly protective stance she took over the technician.

Workplace romance. How foul.

“And? What are you doing to fix this?!” He roared, metal buckling in the grip of his hands.

He wasn’t going to be defeated by a frelling computer virus!

His fight wasn’t over!

“There-there isn’t anything that we _can_ do, sir.” The tech said meekly, “The virus has locked all administration privileges. It bypassed all security. We can’t even attempt a system reboot without endangering life support services and the healing pods. Any soldier in the med bay could potentially die.”

Rage blistered across his mind, his scales flaring up around the base of his ears. He stalked forward, brushing the female soldier aside like a child, a heavy crash betraying the true strength behind his action.

He towered over the violently trembling technician, taking a sadistic pleasure in the way his eyes darted to the still form of his lover before returning to Warslek.

“Do you think I care about the fate of those too weak to prevent themselves from being injured? The weak and useless must be culled for the glory of the Empire. For the glory of our great Emperor!” Warslek laughed, claws catching in the front of the technician’s uniform, a slight upward tug pulling the smaller man to the very tips of his toes, “Show your use to the Empire. Or face the same fate as your lover. Reboot the system. Vrepit sa.”

A weak echo followed his words and he grinned, letting the cowering technician fall from his grasp.

“Right-right away, sir.” The technician said tearily, his eyes fixed on the slow rise and fall of the female soldier’s chest.

“Excellent. When the system returns, set course for Terria. We have a betrayal to investigate.”

He turned his back on the technician, intent on returning to his spot overseeing the bridge. He had scarcely taken a step before a loud zap filled the space, the shrieking sirens sounding almost quiet in comparison.

The odor of burnt flesh and blood filled the bridge, the scent activating a flood of adrenaline in Warslek’s body, hands flexing for want of battle.

He peered over his shoulder, blood running colder in his veins at the sight that greeted him.

In the middle of the bridge sat the Witch, Haggar.

Her form was bloodied and smoking, a puddle already beginning to form on the metal around her, the blood black in the flashing lights. Wounds glared from beneath the fabric of her robe, its hood thrown back to reveal her slightly bewildered and pained countenance.

Her bewilderment lasted but a moment, her face twisting into a grotesque mask of fury the instant her sickly yellow eyes met Warslek’s.

A thin tendril of fear wove itself amongst the fire of his rage but he powered through it, lifting his chin to stare disdainfully at the dishonored form of Zarkon’s Witch. She wasn’t his commanding officer. Her orders didn’t mean anything to him. He answered to Zarkon, not his pet.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” Warslek smirked, forcing himself to appear at ease and in control.

Every moment the Witch glared, the tendril of fear grew even more insistent and intrusive.

If anything, her continued silence was the most terrifying thing he’d experienced in a long while. Screaming he could deal with. Threats he could deal with.

This? This was nothing but unnerving.

“Nothing to say, Witch?”

The continued scream of sirens answered him until they abruptly silenced, the lights cutting to black and the silence of space weighing heavily on every member of the crew watching the stalemate between Warslek and Haggar.

Why?

_Why wasn’t she saying anything?_

He hadn’t taken her threat of punishment earlier seriously, and really, why would he?

Zarkon’s Witch was a figure of either myth or derision amongst his fellow officers. Many were convinced she didn’t exist. To others she was naught but a childhood tale meant to frighten naughty kits into obedience.

Warslek was no child. To buy into her mystery was the realm of the weak-minded.

“Explain yourself, Witch.” He hissed, “Explain this disgraced state of yours.”

The slight hum of the power returning answered him, the screens blinking into life one by one and illuminating the gaunt planes of Haggar’s face.

“You…are a fool. Were it not for your interference and incompetence, we would be leaving victorious.” She croaked at last, golden eyes flashing, “I warned you and you did not listen. I gave you avenue to mitigate your coming punishment and you spat upon my mercy. What do _you_ have to say for yourself, Commander Warslek?”

Her voice never grew any louder, the timbre rough and the words sharp, their intention enough to send a sliver of terror into the taut strain of his spine.

“I don’t answer to you.”

His words felt weak even to his own ears and the Witch laughed, the sound as broken and grotesque as her form.

“You’re putting on quite the brave face but it sounds as if you don’t believe your own words.” She smiled, rising slowly to her feet, ichor puddling around her cloak like the petals of a diseased flower.

She would barely clear the breast plate of his armor if she took the tiniest step forward and yet he felt fear.

Bone chilling fear for this tiny, sickly creature, with lines like blood that ran down her face.

What had he really wanted to accomplish when he had flaunted his derision of her instructions so openly?

“You let your own need for glory blind you to what’s best for the Empire.”

A vicious pulse of anger burned away the fear that had held him in thrall so tightly. What did she know about what would benefit the Empire?

Her? The Witch who scuttled in the shadows like an insect, making off with hapless soldiers or slaves to perform her unholy experiments.

Experiments like the one that gave rise to the Champion, the Black Paladin that led the very Voltron they sought to destroy.

No.

She didn’t have the slightest right to talk about the _good_ of the Empire!

“What do you know of benefiting the Empire, Witch?” He snapped, squaring his shoulders and baring his teeth.

She regarded him in silence once more, his stomach threatening to rebel as he watched her wounds begin to knit back together of their own volition.

“Uh oh! It appears that you’ve attempted a system reboot!” A laughing voice cheered, the screens awash with the image of a grinning human, his dark blue eyes obnoxiously close to the camera, “That’s a big no-no! Rules of the Gremlin Protocol.”

“That’s not what I’m naming it, Lance. You’re ruining the error message.”

“Pssh. More like I’m improving it. Besides, you’re too late, Pidgey. You’ve already coded this message into your virus! I get to be their last warning!” The Lance human crowed, backing up just far enough to regard the camera with strangely cold eyes, “As I was saying, clearly you’ve been infected with Gremlin Protocol for a reason. We commend you for your effort but this isn’t just a simple IT fix.”

A few technicians let out surprised cries as their screens began to fill with numbers, the navigation panels activating of their own volition.

“We bid you adieu, soldiers of the Galra Empire!” The blue eyed human laughed, “And thank you kindly for flying Air Voltron!”

“What’s going on?!” Warslek roared, ignoring the threat of the Witch before him to scream at the technicians.

“Our warp systems have been hijacked!”

“I thought you said that the reboot would fix it!”

The technician he had threatened earlier only let out a hoarse chuckle, shaking his head as overwhelmed tears welled up in his eyes. “It looks like we only managed to activate a kill switch in the coding. Voltron is sending us away. I don’t know where we’ll end up.”

“Then you’d better start finding out.” Warslek threatened, blood running cold at the technician’s words.

How did they get infected by Voltron’s virus?

He’d taken the Castle. There had been no one there. His men had simply waltzed in and laid claim. It had been remarkably easy.

Too easy now that he took a step back.

He hadn’t thought anything of it at the time, stories of Sendak’s success more than blinding him to the situation.

Why would Voltron leave their Castle unattended?

“Your rash actions have all led to this point.” Haggar hummed, a smirk curling the edges of her mouth, eyes narrowed at him almost like she could read the thoughts racing through his mind, “You are only reaping the first of your just rewards.”

“I grow tired of your preaching, Witch.” Warslek snapped, moving to brush past her and hopefully terrify the technicians out of their frozen states.

Just as his arm touched her icy skin, an agonizing electric shock ran through his entire body, limbs seizing and dropping him to the floor at her feet. He couldn’t move, couldn’t even turn his head to prevent faceplanting into the curdling ichor that stained his bridge.

What was this?

He could still feel. He could still hear the hushed whispers of the technicians around him and the slightly labored wheeze of the healing Witch. He could see the cosmos outside the bridge windows begin to blur as the ship warped to a destination unknown.

Warslek could sense all of this, but he couldn’t do a damn thing.

“C-Commander?”

“Pay no mind to him.” Haggar instructed, her yellow eyes keenly observing the current circumstance, “Return to your stations and prepare for whatever awaits us. Voltron may have taken this day but we have not yet lost the war. The Empire will still reign supreme and we shall see the day of victory. Vrepit sa.”

Silence hung still for a moment of time before a spirited chorus greeted her and Warslek could feel the vibration of running feet in the metal beneath his face.

How dare she? How dare she take over his ship, give orders to his soldiers?

_She wasn’t even Galra._

Cold fingers brushed along the crest of his skull and he shuddered, anger quickly being overtaken by fear. “As for you, I believe I have a promise to keep.” She whispered, her voice carrying easily to his ears, “The punishment for insubordination is usually death but that would be a mercy too kind for the failure you have brought about. No. You will live on. You will serve the Empire and hopefully the weapon you create will appease our Emperor for the losses on the Eastern front. It was what I had intended the Paladins for, but I suppose you shall have to do.”

Every scrap of rage in his body evaporated, replaced immediately by bone-curdling fear.

As Haggar, the Witch of the Galra Empire, carried him away from the busy bridge with strength far disproportionate to her size, Warslek couldn’t even bring himself to scream.

~~~~

After so long of basically floating in a calm, fugue like state, Hunk’s first sensation-much to his eternal dismay- was intense, biting cold and then falling.

Strong, slender arms caught with impossible ease and he snuffled in the sudden warmth of what he recognized as the med bay of the Castle.

They’d made it!

His memories from the flight between Terria and home were fuzzy at best and he fought the urge to shake his head in an effort to rid himself of the residual fog.

If he was coming out of a healing pod, things must have been more than okay back here on home base.

Blearily, he blinked upward at his faithful hero, the massive ginger mustache immediately giving his savior away.

“Coran?”

“That would be correct, my boy, good to see those eyes are working fine.” Coran laughed, his voice sounding tight, “You’ve come out just in time.”

“Just in time for what?” Hunk groaned, rubbing at the residual soreness in his forehead.

“Pidge and the others have already left to assault the base.” Coran explained rapidly, urging Hunk to his feet, “I’m afraid we don’t have the luxury of letting you sleep off your lethargy. Pidge managed to confirm that Keith and Lance are in the base.”

“Wait, what? What are they doing there?” Hunk sputtered around a mouthful of fabric as Coran lobbed clothing in his direction.

The ginger man paused for a moment, eyebrows flying up in realization. “My apologies, Hunk. You must have missed more than we thought. How much do you remember from the flight here?”

“Not much, man. My head hasn’t felt this scrambled since Lance convinced me to go to Six Flags with him.” He frowned deeply, “What’s going on, Coran?”

A weary sigh lifted Coran’s chest and he ushered Hunk to follow behind him.

“We were betrayed by the Terrian Clan of the Tiger. They sold us to the Galra to try and secure the Empire’s assistance in reigniting the conflict on Terria.”

“The conflict we _just_ ended because a Tiger clan member called us?” Hunk huffed angrily, following Coran from the med bay to a seldom used locker room nearby.

His armor sat neatly on the center most bench, the plates meticulously cleaned and repaired.

“That Clan member was also betrayed.” Coran said darkly, “Such a thing likely won’t happen again due to the Princess’ influence. I believe she gave them quite the fright.”

“Good.”

As terrible as it sounded, a part of Hunk was glad to know where their betrayal had come from. It tore at him to be so expectant of a stab in the back of their track record to this point simply couldn’t be denied.

“Have you heard anything from Pidge and Shiro yet?” Hunk asked, more than happy to change the subject from the betrayal he’d all but been expecting.

“Not as of yet but-“

The deafening roar of a Lion cut him off and Hunk felt his heart drop in his chest.

That…was not a good sign.

He could feel Yellow humming in the back of his mind, her presence strong and whole once more. Her humming deepened as his unease was reflected in her. After brief prodding, she sent him an impression of flowing water and anxious fretting.

Blue.

“That was the Blue Lion.” He rushed, grabbing his stacked armor and bolting form the locker room, Coran easily keeping pace.

If Blue was roaring like that, something must have happened to Lance.

Red may have been the one known for acting on her own if Keith was in danger but all of the Lions were fiercely protective in some way or another.

Yellow huffed in approval at the thought before another wave of unease swamped him.

Hunk could only frown as he made his way through the halls of the Castle, head still a bit fuzzy from his stint in the healing pod.

Blue was usually so serene. She trusted Lance to find a way out of situations and her trust was well-placed. Lance was good at getting out of less than ideal places and he was sneaky besides.

If Blue was this worried, Lance must be in major trouble indeed, especially with how far away they were.

They nearly ran past the bridge, almost missing a small blinking light flashing quietly in the silence of the Castle. Hunk would have simply run past if not for the abrupt turn Coran made as he noticed it.

Backpedaling, Hunk peered through the door as Coran went right to the terminal, brows drawn.

“Someone is trying to send us a transmission.” He huffed, “Maybe it’s Number Five. She might be able to fill us in on what’s going on before we take off after them.”

Hunk hesitated at the door, torn between racing to his Lion and going to everyone’s aid and finding out more about the situation.

His naturally cautious nature won out and he followed after Coran. It wouldn’t do any of them any good if he flew headlong into a trap. He’d more than used up his impulsive actions for the week, thank you very much.

It was better to stay and move from a position of knowledge, even if the thought of his best friend in danger activated every protective instinct he had.

“The communication does seem to be coming from the Green Lion.” Coran frowned, eyes searching through the flashing logs of Altean characters.

Hunk hummed in agreement, coming to stand beside the older man at the control panel.

“Why didn’t it automatically go through?”

“It’s on a separate channel from the one you Paladins usually use. It’s strange but there could be scrambled frequencies closer to the base.” Coran explained, hands dancing across the interface, “But that’s no problem. Here we go!”

The black screen resolved into an image at last, the picture flashing across it more than enough to make Hunk’s stomach churn.

_Lance._

Dim blue eyes immediately lit up with hope as the connection established but Hunk couldn’t get past his own dawning horror to appreciate it.

Lance looked _awful._

Crimson stained the side of his head from a cut just skirting the edge of his hairline, his face drawn and jaw clenched tightly in pain.

He held his right arm gingerly, the shoulder angled away from the camera but not nearly enough to hide the mess of blood and burned flesh from view.

Even more blood was smeared all across the tattered tunic he wore, a dark, wet patch clinging to his left hip.

”Lance, _what happened?_ ”

There wasn’t much else that Hunk could think to say. His best friend looked like he’d been literally _dragged_ through a warzone.

“That is a very long and complicated story that I don’t have time to get into. Interplanetary political intrigue, blah blah.” Lance said flippantly, his voice carrying a slight hint of wheeze.

What.

Oh, hell no. Hunk wasn’t going to stand for this. No more of this dancing around being injured shit!

“Lance, my boy, you have to tell us what’s going on. We can’t help you unless we know more.” Coran added, brows drawn with worry and hands clutching the controls tightly.

Not that Hunk could blame him. Lance had become almost a surrogate son to the older man in the time since they’d arrived. If it was tearing Hunk apart to see his best friend like this, then he could only imagine how it felt for Coran, especially when they were so far away.

“We need help.” Lance blurted, panic beginning to show in the cracks of his pained visage, “This whole facility is a giant bomb. Keith and Pidge stayed behind to give me time to get to you and I know they’re fighting down there. The whole base knows about our escape and we haven’t been able to get in contract with Shiro.”

Blue’s worry made all kinds of sense now.

Hunk was glad that he’d stayed to answer the call. If he’d flown in blind, there was no telling what kind of danger he would have found himself in.

Or put the others in.

“I was wondering why Number Five hadn’t checked in yet, “Coran tsked, his moustache nearly hiding the uncharacteristic frown on his face, “Is something wrong with her as well? You look like you’ve gone through a warzone.”

Oh good, Coran had the same thought.

Abruptly, Hunk’s stomach dropped. _Was_ Pidge okay? She wasn’t particularly known for being able to fend off large groups of assailants.

“No, Pidge was okay when she and Keith sent me ahead.”

That was a relief.

He’d worried about her more than enough in the last 24 hours.

“Keith and I did get caught in an explosion though.”

Aaaaand the worry was back.

Hunk couldn’t quite control the panic that surged in his chest at Lance’s words, eyes widening when he saw it reflected in Lance’s battered face.

He must not have had any processing time since things had happened.

Everything had gone wrong so quickly, after all.

Seeing Lance’s panic quelled his own and he steeled his gaze. Lance needed him to be calm now. He hadn’t been able to be there much for him during this whole fiasco but like hell was he going to let himself get worked up now.

Not when there was something that he could do.

He met Lance’s eyes, nodding slightly as Lance’s slightly frantic expression began to calm.

“We’ll get a message to Shiro.” Coran promised, fervently, hands already moving quickly over the technology before him, “He’s far closer to your present location. He’d get there sooner than the Castle or the Yellow Lion.”

Like hell Hunk was going to let that stop him. His best friend needed him. His _team_ needed him.

“I’m on my way.” Hunk declared, fingers creaking with how tightly he clutched at his armor, “I’ll fly as fast as Yellow can go. Just hold out a little bit longer.

The relief that so clearly crossed Lance’s face was more than enough to solidify Hunk’s determination and he immediately dropped his armor to his feet, pawing through it to find the pieces to put on first.

There wasn’t any time to waste.

“I knew I could count on you guys.” Lance said quietly, his grin lighting up his face.

A dim glow of pride made Hunk pause for a moment and he nodded.

He’d always have Lance’s back.

Rustling started to echo over the com link and Hunk couldn’t help the questioning noise that pulled itself from his throat as he watched Lance ransack Pidge’s first aid kit, a frown making a solid home on his face when Lance let out a triumphant laugh.

Everything made more sense when he finally recognized the tube in Lance’s hand. The Serophiel Goo. The _extremely_ powerful numbing agent that had apparently only gotten stronger in the 10,000 years that it had lain forgotten amongst the medical supplies.

A slow realization dawned over him and he gaped at his best friend.

Lance couldn’t possibly intend to go back?

He needed a pod, not a fucking numbing agent!

If he couldn’t feel the pain he was in, there was a very good chance he’d hurt himself even more than he was now.

“You’re going back?!” He hissed, disbelief and slight panic leaking into his voice, “You’re barely standing, Lance.”

Lance looked up at his impassioned words, an amused grin pulling at his lips as Hunk watched. He almost seemed to fight back a laugh for a moment before cocking his head to the side just slightly, grin morphing into a smirk.

“Of course I’m going back.” He smiled, “Have you met my husband? Someone has to watch his back.”

_His what now_?

What had happened while Hunk was gone? Last time he’d talked to Lance, there’d been nothing but misery and angst.

What had happened that made Lance smile like that?

What had happened to make Lance snort like he’d heard a particularly funny joke?

_What had happened to make Lance wince like that?_

There was so much of the puzzle that he was missing and it irked him. Hunk liked knowing what was going on, he liked having a solution to the problems that plagued him.

But sadly these situations hardly came with a manual.

“Gods above.”

The hushed curse from Coran had his vision focusing and he blanched at the wound that stretched the expanse of Lance’s left hip, fading black vines surrounding the mottled scab. It was busted open in several areas, the dark red steadily oozing crimson.

It looked horrid.

Hunk could see where some healing had taken place but it wasn’t enough. Lance held himself carefully as he applied the goo to his wound, his eyes watching Coran’s angry face.

“Coran?”

“That should never have happened to you, Lance.” The older man said tightly, a slight creak to the machine in front of him, “And I am going to insist you go into a pod as soon as you return.”

Lance pulled a face and Hunk braced himself for the inevitable argument.

Not that Hunk could really blame him. He didn’t have the best track record when it came to the healing pods. Despite how often he ended up needing them, Lance still had a very valid fear of being trapped in one of them again.

“You got it, Coran.”

Hunk had to blink for a moment at the easy acquiescence, his worries surging back with full force at the lack of whining.

That…had never happened before.

How bad was Lance really feeling to agree so easily?

He met Lance’s eyes through the screen, the half dopey smile the Blue Paladin graced him with not helping with his anxieties.

Guess that goo was really doing its job.

There was a brief moment where Hunk really feared that Lance was going to cry, his breath coming easier before his hands flew to his throat, gaze distantly panicked.

“Lance!”

What was wrong? What was there that Hunk couldn’t see?

“Keith?”

Why was he calling for Keith?

“Keith, what are you talking about? Pidge tased him.”

Was Lance wearing a com?

Hunk quickly discarded the idea after a moment, shaking his head.

If Lance had had a com on him, there wouldn’t have been any need for him to go to Green to get a message to the Castle.

No, this was something else.

“Lance, who are you talking to?”

The distant look to Lance’s eyes was distinctly worrying and Hunk forced himself to strap a few more pieces of armor on while he waited for Lance to answer his question.

“You’re going to do something stupid.”

The words were hissed and vaguely pained, a strange half grimace pulling over Lance’s face. The very same grimace that Lance wore when he was waxing poetic over how beautifully dumb Keith was regarding one thing or another.

“Lance, what’s going on?” Hunk tried again, the last piece of his armor, his helmet, held carefully under one arm.

“They’re going to destroy the planet.” Lance snapped, his vision clearing as he met Hunk’s eyes.

_They were going to do what now?_

Anger and determination burned away some of the fuzziness to Lance’s features and Hunk couldn’t help but nod in understanding.

Something else was going on, something that definitely had to do with Keith.

Another roar shook the Castle, an accompanying slam making Hunk jump.

Was Blue trying to get out?

The sound of Blue’s roar only made Lance stand straighter, his hand patting the headrest of the pilot’s chair.

“Hurry.”

With that, the connection went black and Hunk huffed out an overwhelmed breath. He glanced over to see a similar expression on Coran’s open face, the older man’s shoulders bowing a bit with stress.

“Looks like we don’t have time to waste, Hunk.” He said gravely, “Go. I’ll take care of contacting Shiro. The others are going to need your help, especially if the princess fails.”

“Princess?” Hunk frowned, “Where is Allura?”

“She went to try and distract Haggar.”

Ice flooded Hunk’s veins and he stared at Coran in horror. “Allura is fighting Haggar alone?”

“We tried to stop her.” Coran breathed heavily, hands moving over his console once more, “But she’s stubborn. You know how she is. It’s a bit like trying to convince Alfor of anything.”

There was a quiet pride in Coran’s words, the emotion heavily overlaid with worry and anxiety. This whole situation had been nothing but a mess for all of them, it seemed.

“When we’re done with this mess, we need a vacation.” Hunk groaned, squeezing his helmet onto his head, “And food. Lots of food.”

“That is an excellent idea. I have the perfect place in mind.” Coran chuckled, shooing him away with one hand, “Go. There’s still much to be done.”

“Is there anyone else in the Castle?” Hunk asked, a part of him loathe to leave Coran alone.

“Matt is still here. I believe he’s working on something for Pidge. It might be a good idea to let him know what’s going on.”

Another slam rocked the Castle, two roars echoing through the halls. “Open the hangar doors.” Hunk grimaced, “If things are really bad enough that Red _and_ Blue are trying to get out, we’re gonna need all the help we can get.”

Coran nodded firmly, his eyes locked on the keys in front of him. Hunk took it for the dismissal it was, breaking into a run as he made his way down to Yellow’s hangar.

There wasn’t much time to waste.

For once, the ridiculously circuitous route to his Lion didn’t trip him up a bit and he breathed a sigh of relief when Yellow lit up around him, her comforting voice echoing through his mind space.

“Come on, girl. We have a team to save.”

She sent waves of amusement to him as she bounded forward, Red and Blue distant specks in the cosmos ahead of them.

“From the sound of it, you’ve been quite the hero lately.” A familiar voice laughed, Matt’s face popping up on his left monitor, “Coran told me to get in contact with you. Did something happen planet side?”

“Looks like Pidge found Lance and Keith but they managed to get cornered in one of the containment areas.” Hunk rushed, pushing Yellow forward as fast as she could go, “They sent Lance ahead to get a message to us. Something about the coms being blocked inside the building.”

“Containment areas?” Matt frowned, fingers tapping on the keyboard in front of him, “Looks like there’s a couple of them on the maps I managed to download from the servers.”

“You have a map?” Hunk blurted, directing some of his focus to Matt’s screen, “What else were you able to get into?”

“Pidge had me take over processing when they managed to blockade her in some dead code.” Matt explained, his expression growing even tenser, “I’ll see what else I can manage to get into. But what exactly are they trying to contain, Hunk?”

“Lance said they were full of bombs.” Hunk said quietly, Libanis coming into view, “Enough to destroy the planet.”

“ _Fuck.”_

Yeah, Hunk could relate to that sentiment.

The tap of Matt’s fingers over the keys of his setup echoed in the silence of Yellow’s cockpit, Hunk’s head quiet of Yellow’s purrs as his Lion focused all her energy on getting to the rapidly approaching planet as quickly as she could.

Yellow wasn’t really built for speed but Hunk had faith in his Lion. She’d had his back this long.

“And I’m in.” Matt said at last, tawny eyes flicking between the holographic screens before him rapidly.

Hunk could really see where Pidge got it from. It was a bit unnerving how similar the Holt siblings were, actually.

Abruptly, Matt’s face drained of color and Hunk felt his heart race in his chest.

Please, let him arrive in time.

“Matt, you gotta talk to me, man. That is not a happy color for your face to turn.”

Matt’s hands trembled for a moment before determination furrowed his brows. “I found them… and you weren’t kidding. There’s a veritable army in there with them.” He hissed, fingers twitching like he wanted to reach through the screens, “Hunk, I see Lance.”

Yellow rocketed through Libanis’ atmosphere like a meteor, completely abandoning stealth to aim directly for the base. Hunk could almost hear the ticking of a clock in the background, each moment dancing with the precipice of being too late.

“See if there’s anything you can do.” Hunk pleaded, “There has to be a way to cut them off or lock down the containment areas, something! One wrong shot in there and they’re all toast.”

Silence stretched taut between the two of them, Matt’s throat bobbing as he watched the screens in front of him. “I’ll-I’ll do what I can. Go get them out of there.”

Hunk saluted weakly, moving his attention back to where the base loomed large before him, the figures of the Red and Blue Lions directing him in where to go. He could vaguely see the outline of the Black Lion on the far side of the base, her majestic flight leading a group of fighters on a merry chase around the cliff sides.

He didn’t dare try the coms just in case he distracted Shiro from the fighters hot on his tail.

This was up to him.

He was getting a little tired of being the one things were falling to but he was a Leg of Voltron for a reason. He’d stay steady and keep everyone on their feet.

Yellow bounded across the top of the base, slamming through the defenses that sought to stop her single-minded charge. Hunk kept his eyes locked on where Red and Blue clawed at the roof, a strange sort of desperation surrounding them, the feeling strong enough that even Yellow seemed almost taken aback.

Their claws tore deep furrows in the rooftop, Red pulling back just in time for Blue to shove her face over the hole, ice tearing from her maw.

What.

What just happened?

“ _…L-….Lance, oh my God!”_

Hunk recognized that voice. How could he not? The particular gremlin it belonged to was his self-appointed tech buddy, the voice in all their ears when they tried to navigate each new base or ship.

But he wasn’t sure if he’d heard so much raw panic in her voice before.

“Pidge?”

“ _Hunk?”_ She faltered, an animal-like roar in the background, the sound grief-stricken and so, so very angry, “ _Where are you?_ ”

Yellow pulled up short a few feet from where Red and Blue still pawed at the roof, a spire of ice sticking out of the hole they had previously torn through the ceiling. Red paced, orange threatening at the edges of her maw. They stepped out of Yellow’s way when she lowered her head, letting Hunk escape her mouth.

“I’m here, Pidge. What’s going on?”

_“It’s Lance. Hunk, he saved us, but I can’t…Hunk I didn’t see what happened.”_ Pidge coughed, panic still evident in her voice, weak as it was, “ _And Keith…just hurry, please.”_

The short distance between Yellow’s jaws and the hole in the ceiling felt like miles but Hunk sprinted for it, post-pod lethargy still dragging at his limbs.

His ribs twinged at the strain, an odd sort of ache thrumming in his wrists and at his shoulders.

It was weird but not quite enough to give him pause.

His friends were in trouble.

He leapt into the hole Red and Blue had created, jetpack flaring to immediate life to control his fall and to avoid the jagged spikes of ice from the glacier Blue had formed in the containment area.

Sounds of battle immediately assailed his senses and he called his bayard to his hand, taking in as much of the situation as he could.

Blue’s ice cast strange shadows with the way the light refracted, the resulting effect giving a strange liminal appearance to the otherwise terrifying sight.

There were so many bombs.

Just wall to wall, crate after crate filled with explosives of all shapes and sizes.

_More than enough to destroy this planet._

They’d been so wrong about this base, so _incredibly_ wrong about the situation on this planet.

A part of him almost worried that the Coalition had pushed them this hard on purpose.

Why else would they insist on Libanis the way they had? Sure, it was important in freeing this sector, but it should have been a longer term mission.

They should have done reconnaissance first.

Instead, they’d allowed themselves to be goaded into flying blind.

Hunk squared his shoulders and landed loudly on an outcropping of ice, knuckles creaking at how tightly he’d clenched his fists.

If…

No, when.

When they all made it out of this, he’d have some choice words for the Coalition.

“LANCE!!”

An agonized yell from the floor of the containment unit nearly knocked him from his slippery perch and Hunk found his gaze drawn to the one who yelled.

Keith.

The Red Paladin looked worse than Hunk had probably ever seen him, red tunic tattered and blood stained, new wounds ignored in favor of clawing at the ice in front of him.

The still forms of several Galra soldiers littered the floor around him, their fallen bodies sporting grotesque wounds. Hunk clenched his teeth to control the flip of his stomach, eyes catching on where Pidge stared, her trembling form leaning heavily against an overturned box.

Blood spattered her armor as well, the rise and fall of her chest looking labored the longer Hunk watched.

But where was Lance?

Another agonized call of his best friend’s name made his stomach drop in horrifying realization and he stared at the ice under his feet, the spray of ice within the glacier looking remarkably like an explosion.

Deeper blue caught his attention and his eyes went wide.

The ice was _around_ Lance.

It had protected him from the explosion. Clearly not quick enough to keep him from getting thrown back a bit, but he was still in one piece, judging by from what Hunk could see.

And from the sound of it, _Keith didn’t know_.

_He thought Lance was dead._

“Pidge, what happened?”

The Green Paladin looked up abruptly when his voice echoed over the com, tawny eyes panicked. “ _Some of the Galra tried to pull their blasters, I think._ ” She replied, the room enormous enough that Hunk could see her mouth move but couldn’t hear her except over the com, “ _They weren’t quite as good a shot as Lance.”_

“You bastard! You said you wouldn’t leave!” Keith cried, his shoulders bowing as he slid to his knees in front of the glacier, “You _promised.”_

Hunk’s heart clenched painfully in his chest, Keith’s words hitting hard.

Something really had happened between him and Lance. Probably something that would have been a cause for celebration any other time.

Something they’d all laugh and exchange GAC over, playful ribbing and congratulations following not long after.

They deserved so much better than this.

The ice under his feet crackled dangerously, the whole glacier shifting slightly. The terrifyingly beautiful explosion within the ice expanded just a bit further, the process slowed but not stopped by any means.

Every moment he stood here watching, the spray of ice shards drew a little closer to where Lance slumped within his icy prison.

Blue had done what she could to _save_ him but even her ice wasn’t enough to fully stop the explosion that would have taken him instantly.

There was no time to waste.

“Keith!” He yelled, ignoring the way Keith jolted violently at his call, “Lance is still okay! But he won’t be for long if we don’t get him out of the ice.”

For a moment, Hunk worried that Keith didn’t believe him, the grief on his face making Hunk’s heart pang softly in sympathy.

 For _just_ a moment, Hunk worried that Keith’s grief would blind him to the truth.

Hunk had the better vantage point. He could see what Keith could not.

The moment passed and Keith’s face hardened into that stubborn look of determination that Hunk could only associate with his hotheaded friend. He surged to his feet, eyes darting around. “Do what you can. I’m going to find a way around.”

Light footsteps echoed as Keith took off at a sprint around the glacier and Hunk took the time to give Pidge a brief nod before engaging his jetpack once more, keeping high in an effort to not ignite any of the bombs on the floor of the containment unit.

He hopped from foothold to foothold, the treads on his boots barely gaining traction on some of the smaller ledges.

“ _I’m going to try to get up to Green. I’ll meet you on the roof. We have to do something about these bombs.”_

“Copy that, Pidge. Coran should have gotten a message to Shiro. With any luck, he’ll be able to meet up with you.”

Hunk let his jetpack sputter to a stop as he got as close as he dared to Lance’s shadowed ice cavern, body low as he allowed gravity to slide him down the natural slope of the glacier.

Keith darted around the corner as he slid down, his resulting momentum pushing him too fast and they collided with a violent smack, Hunk’s curled form taking Keith out at the knees.

The Red Paladin groaned from where he hit the floor, arms wobbling as he tried to push himself up. That bone deep grief was ebbing from his face when he finally looked up, tired violet eyes meeting Hunk’s own.

“It’s good to see you, Hunk.” He huffed, a ghost of a smile on his face when Hunk offered a hand to pull him to his feet, “I’m glad you’re okay. Last I’d heard you decided to do something pretty reckless.”

“You’re probably a bad influence on me, man.” Hunk grinned, letting the expression dim as he and Keith turned their eyes to where Lance was protected by the ice, “It’s a good thing that Red and Blue left when they did.”

“You have no idea.” Keith said hoarsely, his throat bobbing and his hand squeezing at Hunk’s unconsciously, “I’m so ready to get off this planet.”

“I hear you.” Hunk nodded, letting his bayard take its favored shape, “We don’t have a lot of time before those ice shards bust into Lance’s air pocket.”

“I didn’t even know Blue could do that.”

“Red has pulled some crazy stunts to get to you before.” Hunk chuckled, “I think it was only a matter of time before the other Lions did too. They’re getting a bit overprotective.”

“Can’t really blame them.”

“Not really.” Hunk agreed, leveling his gun at the side of the glacier, “I’m gonna try to weaken this part so we can get to Lance.”

“There’s bombs everywhere, Hunk.” Keith deadpanned, “Is that really a good idea?”

“Do you have a better one?”

Keith huffed in frustration, leveling him with a flat look. “Be careful.”

“Dude, I practice with Lance.” Hunk reassured, trying to disguise the shaking in his hands, “It should be okay.”

Oh, god, he was terrified.

What if he missed?

Yellow purred quietly in the back of his mind and he steadied his aim, keeping the barrel low.

He could do this.

“Once I get it weak enough, you should be able to bust through. I don’t know how well the glacier will hold up after that so you’ll have to be fast.”

“I can do fast.”

Nodding once, Hunk let the rest of the room fade from his awareness, focusing on aiming as best he could with his bayard. It wasn’t nearly as precise as Lance’s rifle.

To be completely honest, his gun was far better suited for holding a line of defense. He felt like a tank just holding it.

But they didn’t have a choice here so his tank-like gun would have to do.

Fingertips edging the trigger back, he shifted his weight between his planted feet, preparing himself for the inevitable recoil.

He had a much better handle on how to deal with it than when he first tried to fire it.

Three golden bolts screamed from the barrel of his gun, slamming into the ice one after the other. He repeated the process a few more times, keeping the steadily encroaching explosion of icy shards in his peripheral vision.

Once he could see the cracks where his shots had impacted, he pointed his gun’s barrel skyward, looking to cue Keith, only to find the Red Paladin had raced forward the moment he’d moved his gun.

He sprinted forward, sword whistling through the air and impacting the weakened ice like a crack of thunder. The sheer blue gave like paper and Keith rolled as his impact carried him through. Hunk watched as Keith hesitated for only a moment, that same half-panicked grief washing over his face before he darted forward and threw Lance’s arm over his shoulder, pulling the rousing Blue Paladin to his feet.

“I am…getting so sick…of getting knocked out.” Lance slurred, his head lolling against Keith’s as they gimped out of the glacier.

“Maybe you should stop getting blown up.” Keith said bitterly, his words not matching the sheer level of relief that graced his expression.

“As much as I’d love to let the two of you banter and get all your UST out of your system, we gotta go.” Hunk interrupted, a part of his worry easing at the more lucid smile he got from Lance, “Red and Blue are on the roof. Pidge should be in Green already.”

“Damn, Hunk.” Lance chuckled, his cheek brushing alongside Keith’s as he tried to get his bearings, the Red Paladin’s face immediately going scarlet as Hunk watched, “Your efficiency never fails to amaze me.”

“Someone’s gotta keep you guys on task.” Hunk teased, putting his bayard away and taking Lance’s other arm, Keith’s face immediately relaxing as they split supporting Lance’s surprisingly heavy form.

“Pretty sure that’s Shiro.” Keith added, a wry grin pulling at the edges of his mouth.

“Space Dad is so responsible.” Lance hummed, nodding along, “We should get him a coffee mug. He probably needs it.”

“The mug or the coffee?”

“Yes.”

More of that visceral terror eased at Lance’s half-slurred banter, the Blue Paladin coming back to full lucidity slowly.

His sluggishly bleeding wounds stained Keith’s tunic and the plates of Hunk’s armor, the chalkiness of Lance’s skin not going unnoticed. Hunk was worried, there was no doubt about that.

But there was a clear difference between being worried on the other side of a screen and being worried in the thick of a situation.

Here he could do something. Here he could actively keep his best friend alive long enough to get him into those beautiful Altean pods.

_“I’m at Green._ ” Pidge called over the coms, her voice echoing just loud enough that both Keith and Lance perked up, _“Tell Lance he owes me more Serophiel gel. And that he gets to clean Green when we get back. He left my damn first aid kit everywhere.”_

“I was in a bit of a hurry.”

“He can hear you, Pidge. And don’t worry. It’ll be okay.”

Hunk could hear her snort over the line and suppressed his own smile.

Things were going to be okay.

Their strange little three person shuffle was slow going, Lance taking more and more of his own weight off their shoulders as they made it around the glacier. The Serophiel gel had more than done its job in taking away his pain but Hunk could still see the damage in the way his body trembled, his injured shoulder periodically jerking when he tried to move the arm in a certain way.

“Ha, rich. We both know you’re the reckless one here.”

Hunk looked up quizzically at Lance’s sudden outburst, his eyes somewhat glazed as the frustrated expression on Keith’s face only grew. “Stop answering out loud.”

“That’s half the fun, samurai.” Lance grinned, turning those hazy blue eyes in Hunk’s direction, “We got freaky brain voodoo now, Hunk. We’re totally drift compatible.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

Hunk let out an exaggerated gasp, free hand smacking against his chest plate, “But Lance, I thought I was your Jaeger partner?”

“Oh my god, Voltron is a giant Jaeger.”

“You’re just now realizing this?” Hunk laughed, chuckles dying off at the utterly confused expression on Keith’s face.

They had so much pop culture to catch Keith up on when they made it back home.

He opened his mouth to take pity on the clueless Red Paladin when the shuffle and crash of movement caught his attention, his bayard immediately jumping back to his hand as he went on high alert.

A part of him had been sure that Keith and Pidge had cleared the room but this was a pretty big base.

He wouldn’t put it past them to call for reinforcements from another section.

A sickening cross between a chuckle and a gurgle echoed through the cavernous room, the sound sending ice down his spine. He shared a look with Keith, the Red Paladin’s eyes narrowed as they focused on a slowly rising figure in the center of a mass of Galra corpses.

“How is he standing?” Lance whispered, hand flexing nervously on Hunk’s pauldron, “I shot him in the throat.”

Hunk grimaced at the imagery, his stomach threatening to rebel at the sight that greeted them. The ubiquitous, ornamental armor of a Galra commander was covered in thick violet, the mass of burned and gaping tissue that might have once been called a throat continuing to bleed sluggishly as the Commander pulled himself to his feet.

“This…this isn’t….this isn’t over, Paladin.” He wheezed, the words interspersed with gurgles and wet gasps of air, “I won’t…be so easily…denied my glory. Vrepit….vrepit sa!”

He raised one violently trembling fist, a small remote clasped in his clenched fist.

Hunk’s stomach dropped to his feet and he pulled Lance completely into his arms, Keith looking to him in alarm. “Go!”

There was no hesitation in Keith’s actions, his legs flying as he sprinted for the stairwell that Pidge had disappeared into earlier.

“Hunk, buddy, whatever you’re doing, do it now!” Lance gasped, grunting in pain as Hunk tossed him over one shoulder to give himself better mobility, “Fucking ow, Hunk.”

“Sorry, man.” Hunk rushed, running for the side of the glacier and engaging his jetpack, praying and hoping that it would be enough to support both him and Lance.

He wasn’t nearly as fast as Keith, especially while carrying Lance’s weight.

If that remote did what he thought it did, they wouldn’t make it out of the stairwell. Their only option was the hole in the roof.

“This…is my…victory.” A wheezing voice echoed through the room, “I’ll see you in hell, Paladins.”

The jetpack sputtered briefly as he jumped toward the glacier, fear making his breath come fast in his chest.

He wasn’t even sure if getting out of the room would save them but this was all he could do.

Murphy’s Law had never fucked them so hard before.

“Come on, come on.” He growled under his breath, pushing the jetpack as hard as he dared, the light gleaming through the torn roof almost taunting him with the promise of safety.

Just a little further!

_“GET CLEAR!!”_

Matt?

“ _Come on, Hunk, you gotta get clear, man! I can’t do this until you get out!”_

Oh great. More pressure.

When all of this was over, he was going to take the longest nap of his life and probably stress bake enough to feed the castle for the next year.

Heaven help anyone who tried to interrupt.

A distant click made the adrenaline surge through his veins and he pushed off the glacier one last time, his jetpack sputtering and spitting as they neared the hole in the roof.

“Hunk, buddy.”

“I know.”

It wasn’t quite enough. Every inch they gained was quickly lost when the jetpack sputtered, their speed rapidly dropping.

Hunk grit his teeth in frustration, arm tightening around his squirming friend. He could hear the first few bombs beginning to detonate, their mechanisms quiet but all the more deafening in the tense silence of their attempted escape.

“Babe, if you’re going to do something, please do it now!”

The jetpack sputtered once more and Hunk closed his eyes tightly, fear and regret coalescing tightly in his chest. He held Lance tightly, prepared to pull his lanky friend atop him to mitigate the damage from the fall.

Not that it would really matter once the explosions finally kicked off but it was the thought that counted.

Wind whistled by his ears briefly and he let one eye crack open, his heart nearly leaping out of his chest when the gargantuan head of the Red Lion darted through the hole in the ceiling, her massive jaws catching both of them and pulling back just as enormous, thick metal shutters closed off the entire containment area.

He laid in the mouth of the Red Lion for a long moment, trying desperately to calm his racing heart and come to terms with the fact that he was _not_ about to fall to his death via explosion.

“Oh my god, we’re alive.”

“Hell yeah, we’re alive buddy!” Lance whooped, rolling off of him and stumbling up into Red’s cockpit.

Hunk took one more moment to breathe before following after, the ashen face of both Keith and Matt greeting him as he made it to the cockpit.

“ _Oh thank fucking everything, you got them_.” Matt groaned, sitting back in his chair with one hand clapped over his eyes, “ _I thought I’d accidentally trapped them in there_.”

“What did you even do?” Lance hummed, leaning heavily on the back of Keith’s chair, one hand unconsciously sitting atop Keith’s shoulder.

“ _The containment areas have emergency shut down mechanisms. I’m assuming it’s for accidental detonation. It’s not enough to stop it permanently, I imagine it is so they can evacuate the base. We only have about 10 minutes before the explosive power overloads the shields and takes down the planet_.” Matt explained, his expression grave, “ _The containment areas are isolated sections. If we could somehow remove them from the base, we might be able to save Libanis_.”

“I guess we need Voltron.” Hunk smiled, setting his shoulders as Keith gave him a fierce grin, “Good thing Red and Blue decided to be helicopter parents today.”

Lance smirked broadly and Hunk felt determination fill him.

Time to finish this.

~~~~

The Black Lion banked hard to the right, her controls more refined and pinpointed than any of the fighters that were hot on her tail. They crashed into the cliff side in a fierce explosion of color and Shiro couldn’t help the satisfied smile that curled over his face.

There was a special kind of pride in pulling off that kind of maneuver. Keith had been trying for months.

He’d have to let his little brother know he nailed it. Keep that competition going strong.

At the thought, his smile faded and he flicked his eyes toward the base that sat upon the cliffs above, the structure far more imposing and impressive in person.

It had been well over an hour since Pidge gave him the signal and she still hadn’t checked in. It wasn’t like her to go radio silent, especially when so much of the team was in danger. Even her marker hadn’t seemed to have moved.

Another volley of fighters screamed around the cliff face and Shiro set his jaw, breathing deeply and leading them on a merry chase once more.

He had to have faith in his team. They were strong and capable. They were far too young to be fighting a war like this but that decision hadn’t been his. He’d send them home if he could.

_He’d go home if he could_.

A close call pulled him from his momentary homesickness and he pushed forward again, flipping Black in midair to angle her cannon at the fighters harrying him. A brief flash of yellow nearly distracted him again but he focused in, picking off the erstwhile fighters with ease.

The fighters had scarcely met the waves before his com blazed to life, three screens popping up all at once.

“Shiro!”

He couldn’t help the startled flinch as Coran, Matt, and Pidge all managed to yell his name in unison.

“I take it that we’ve run into trouble.”

That was the only likely explanation.

“I think it’s a little bit bigger than trouble.” Pidge answered, the other two looking far more anxious than he’d like, “Remember the containment units I was telling you about? They’re filled with bombs, Shiro. Enough to destroy this planet down to its core.”

Shiro’s stomach swooped unpleasantly but he schooled his features into determination, unwilling to let fear get the best of him. “Yeah, I’d say that’s bigger than trouble. Report. What’s been going on? Did you get Lance and Keith?”

Please let her have gotten them. If they had to deal with a facility primed to take down the planet _and_ still find their missing Paladins, they’d be doomed.

“I got them.” Pidge hummed, “They’re in pretty rough shape. Especially Lance.”

Nodding slightly, Shiro angled the Black Lion into a steep ascent, worry for his team making him grip his controls tightly. The joints of his Galra arm groaned slightly at the pressure, the Black Lion rumbling quietly in his head, her quiet voice giving him some small comfort.

He’d figured that Lance would still be hurt. Stab wounds could take weeks to heal on their own and that wasn’t even taking the poison into account.

Still, Shiro didn’t like to see any of his team hurt. They were just kids.

“They managed to bust out by themselves. But we got chased into the containment unit after that frigging Commander set off an explosion.” Her voice trembled for a moment, “If Blue hadn’t shown up when she did, they would have killed all of us. They were just shooting in the containment area, Shiro. They were willing to kill everyone in that room.”

A slow sliver of ice crept through Shiro’s veins at Pidge’s quiet words.

He’d come so close to losing them, so close to losing nearly all of his team. So close to losing the family they’d built for themselves out here in the stars.

And he wouldn’t have known.

He wouldn’t have known about any of it until it was far too late to help them.

_He wouldn’t have known until Libanis was falling to pieces around him_.

“Hunk should be down there, Shiro.” Coran said gravely, “As well as both the Red and Blue Lions. It seems they couldn’t stay behind.”

“Hunk is okay?”

Shiro still couldn’t believe that Hunk had pulled off such a wildly reckless move. It was a relief to know that he was awake.

“Healthy as a yelmore.” Coran smiled briefly before his expression went stern, “Lance was the one to contact us and to say that he’s in rough shape is an understatement. He needs a pod.”

The tone of Coran’s voice brooked no argument and Shiro felt that sliver of ice in his veins grow a bit colder.

Things were worse than he thought.

“Oh. Oh shit. Oh shit this is bad. This is so, so very bad. Get out. You guys have to get out _.”_ Matt began to ramble, his sudden words catching Shiro by surprise.

“Matt, what’s going on?”

“We’re out of time. Come on Hunk, GET CLEAR!!!”

Shiro pushed Black harder, narrowly missing a sharp outcropping of the cliff, a potent blend of fear, worry, and adrenaline surging through his blood.

No. No no no!

“Come on, Hunk, you gotta get clear, man! I can’t do this until you get out! _”_

The Black Lion crested the clifftop just in time to see the Red Lion surge into a hole torn into the room of the enormous base, her head pulling back just as a thick metal shutter closed the hole off.

_“_ Did you get them?!” Pidge cried into the com, her fear only ratcheting up Shiro’s own.

Terror surged through Shiro’s veins and he skidded to a stop between the Red and Green Lions, hurriedly unbuckling the safety harnesses that had so recently saved Hunk’s life. He’d go in after them if he had to.

He wasn’t leaving any of his team behind. He wouldn’t fail them.

He would fail another team ever again.

“ _I got them.”_

Shiro froze mid motion, the raspy tone of his surrogate brother filtering through the Paladin’s main line. He’d honestly never been so happy to hear Keith’s voice in his life.

“Oh thank fucking everything, you got them.” Matt groaned, sitting back in his chair with one hand clapped over his eyes, “I thought I’d accidentally trapped them in there.”

“Language.” Shiro scolded automatically, ignoring the snort Pidge released as Matt smirked and gave him the finger with one hand.

“ _Shiro?”_ Keith called, a tremble to his voice that told Shiro more than his words ever could, “ _I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to hear your voice.”_

And didn’t that just twist the knife in his heart a little harder? Keith wasn’t one for expressing his feelings aloud, let alone in front of others. He could only imagine what kind of shape Keith was in, emotionally, to let his guard slip so easily.

“Likewise.” Shiro laughed, “You managed to get Lance and Hunk out?”

“Yeah, I got them.”

Indistinct voices sounded in the background and Shiro felt his tension leave him abruptly, his limbs feeling oddly drained as he slumped back into his chair.

“ _What did you even do?”_

Lance. Another voice he didn’t think he’d ever be so happy to hear.

“The containment areas have emergency shut down mechanisms. I’m assuming it’s for accidental detonation. It’s not enough to stop it permanently, I imagine it is so they can evacuate the base. We only have about 10 minutes before the explosive power overloads the shields and takes down the planet.” Matt explained, his expression grave, “The containment areas are isolated sections. If we could somehow remove them from the base, we might be able to save Libanis.”

Ten minutes wasn’t a lot of time to save an entire planet. Even if the sections were isolated, it might be nigh impossible to separate them fully from the base.

He opened his mouth to reply when another voice beat him to the punch.

“ _Guess we need Voltron.”_

Shiro couldn’t help but shake his head with a laugh at the pure determination in Hunk’s voice.

He’d come a _long way_ from the scared cadet he’d once been.

“Do you have a plan then?” He articulated, restrapping himself into his pilot’s seat.

He had the distinct feeling he was in for the bumpiest ride of his life.

For a moment he could hear Hunk mumble over the coms, a brief bark of familiar laughter pulling a bit of hope to his chest.

“ _I have a plan.”_

Lance?

“We’re all ears, Lance.” Pidge grinned, a mess of first aid supplies barely visible in the background behind her.

“ _First of all, Hunk and I have to get back to our lovely ladies._ ” Lance drawled, a brief hitch in his voice, almost as if it were a little hard to breathe, “ _Then we have Red do her thing and melt the roof around the containment unit.”_

That sounded good but what if the lava got into the containment area?

“ _What do you expect me to do when Red’s lava melts right through the containment unit? We’d be dead in the water.”_ Keith huffed in frustration, the question taking the words right out of Shiro’s mouth.

“ _Patience, samurai, I was getting to that part.”_ Lance continued, the cadence of his voice so familiar in this moment that Shiro could almost see the overemphasized gestures he typically used when explaining a plan.

And wasn’t that an interesting thought? One that Shiro hadn’t even really considered.

Lance was _good_ at this.

Good at explaining plans. Good at coming up with plans on the fly.

“Keep going, Lance, I think you’re on to something.” Shiro praised, mentally shelving his discovery for when they made it back to the relative safety of the Castle.

It only went to show that he had so much more to learn about his team.

And that he should probably be taking way more advantage of Lance’s apparent tactical talent.

“ _Aye, aye captain.”_ Lance laughed, “ _As I was saying, before my grouchy husband felt the need to interrupt me, we have Red melt the roof in the perimeter of the containment unit. Before that, I have Blue freeze the space we can see between the blast doors and the rooftop. When Red starts to see steam, we’re good.”_

His what now?

“How are we supposed to get this thing out when the roof is out of the way? It’s an enormous room!” Pidge argued, her eyebrows furrowed even as Matt lit up on the screen beside her.

“ _Indeed it is, Pidgey, but I noticed that those blast doors came out from beneath the floor. They encapsulate the entire room. It might very well be that the room could be picked up.”_

Matt’s eyebrows furrowed down in a perfect twin of his sister’s and rubbed a hand over one temple. “I think Lance might be right. It doesn’t make much sense for them to just be stockpiling bombs for no reason. Those containment units might double as storage transports.”

“ _But how would you even get to them to transport them as a containment unit? There is a very solid roof in the way?”_ Hunk interjected, “ _It sounded like a great idea guys but like you said, we don’t really have a lot of time.”_

“It’s the only plan we’ve got right now.” Shiro sighed heavily, silently hoping that Lance was right.

They really didn’t have the time to try to make up something new. The clock was ticking and they’d already wasted precious minutes with trying to plan what they had.

“Get to your Lions.” Shiro ordered, “And get ready to form Voltron as soon as we get this roof moved. We’ll need him to lift this thing.”

“ _I really hope this works.”_ Hunk said nervously, his voice rowing fainter as Red lowered her head to the roof surface.

“You and me both, buddy.” Shiro murmured absently, keeping an eye out for the two figures beginning to emerge from Red’s mouth.

Hunk barreled out first, the flash of bright yellow armor easing a worry That Shiro hadn’t even realized he’d carried.

Any sense of relief that gave him instantly faded as Lance followed after, blue tunic tattered and nearly black in places, the light catching on the red tint to the soaked fabric. His gait was unsteady and even at this distance, Shiro could see the paleness to his dark skin.

He…he could see where Coran was coming from now.

He watched carefully until both Blue and Yellow were fully online, the Yellow Lion opening another screen on Shiro’s already crowded monitor, Coran giving him a brief nod once Hunk established contact.

“I’m going to check in with the Princess.” Coran said gravely, “It’s been some time since she left and I fear the worst.”

Shiro couldn’t help the slight flinch that escaped him at the thought of Allura’s part in their mission, a part of him feeling guilty that he couldn’t have done more in that arena.

The larger part of him was still so terrified of facing Haggar once more.

“Copy that, Coran. Keep us posted.” He managed, breathing out a heavy sigh as Coran’s screen closed.

He let his attention focus on the new screen, a frown gracing his face as both Red and Blue stayed audio only.

It was a relief to see Hunk whole and healthy once again, even if he had a quiet moment of panic at the blood that smeared the shoulder of Hunk’s armor.

Hunk caught his gaze, face blanching when he followed Shiro’s eyes.

“That…that isn’t mine.” Hunk breathed, face pale as he forced his gaze away, “Oh, God. Shiro that was the shoulder I was carrying Lance on!”

“All the more reason to finish this.” Shiro huffed, maneuvering the Black Lion towards the opening torn into the roof, “Lance?”

“ _On it, chief._ ”

The Blue Lion moved forward, her head angled carefully, frost building at the edges of her muzzle.

Red held herself close, the two Lions oddly in sync as they moved. Ice burst from Blue’s mouth, Lance’s keen eye directing the flow so that it screamed into the tiny bit of space between the metal and the rooftop.

Red darted forward the moment Blue drew back and Shiro faltered, a thought occurring to him as he glanced back to Pidge.

A terrible thought.

“How many containment zones did you see again?”

His words triggered a dawning horror on Pidge’s face, the expression mirrored in Matt, the older Holt immediately returning to a frantic pace in his typing.

“There’s two.” She whispered, her face pale under soot and a faint trickle of scarlet at her hairline, “Fuck! Shiro, there’s two!”

He didn’t even have the heart to scold her, his eyes meeting Hunk’s terrified gaze.

“We don’t have that kind of time!” Hunk cried, the fear in his voice sending a surge of adrenaline and determination through Shiro’s veins.

This wasn’t going to be the end. They were going to get past this.

“We’ll make time. Matt, make sure the lockdown is in effect for the second unit. Hunk, you’re with me. We need to start on this second unit. If Lance is right, we just have to expose it enough that Voltron can grab it and throw it out of the atmosphere.”

“Lockdown already in process. It’s automatic for both of them.” Matt said hoarsely, “Guys, hurry. We only have seven more minutes.”

“Lance, I have never wanted you to be right so badly in my life.” Pidge added, a slightly hysterical note to her voice.

” _I will remember that the next time we argue, Pidgey.”_

“I have never been so comforted by snark.”

_“I live to serve.”_

“ _You live to irritate, more like.”_

Keith. He’d never miss a chance to poke at Lance. But it definitely sounded infinitely fonder than his jabs had in the past.

_“Just you, honey bear.”_

_“Please don’t call me that.”_

The snort that left Shiro was completely involuntary and he clapped a hand over his mouth to suppress it, the Black Lion bounding over the roof’s surface, a map directing him to the area that Pidge had indicated.

“Guys, Shiro just laughed at that.” Pidge tattled, tawny eyes meeting his with barely contained mirth.

“ _Space Dad thinks I’m funny.”_

_“I think my brother just likes torturing me.”_

“ _Kinky.”_

“Oh, God. Lance. No.” Shiro said sternly, making an exceptionally perturbed face.

Matt snickered slightly, some of the abject terror leaving his expression at the slightly overdone banter filtering through the coms. Lance had always been good for that.

De-escalating tension. Making them laugh.

Shiro would make sure he came out of this in one piece.

He’d make sure they all did.

The Yellow Lion bounded up beside him, her claws morphing as Hunk caught on to his intention. Shiro gave him a sharp nod before digging Black’s claws through the stone work, her talons slicing through the material like paper.

“Be careful, Shiro. You guys could still potentially puncture the steel and we’d be in major trouble.” Pidge cautioned, doing her best to help Lance and Keith with moving the molten pieces of stone out of the way.

“No pressure.” Hunk huffed, Yellow working in the opposite direction, enormous claws pulling up great swaths of stone.

Quietly, Shiro agreed with Hunk’s sentiment. His hands had a slight tremble as he worked in concert with the Yellow Lion, the roof falling to pieces under their efforts. They weren’t quite as fast as Red and Blue but between the four of them and Pidge shuttling back and forth as quickly as should could, they managed.

“Come on, guys.” Matt implored, “We’re running out of time.”

Tension and fear crept along Shiro’s limbs but he shook them tightly, ignoring the phantom sensation of his lost arm in favor of turning back to the rest of his team. “Matt has a point. We don’t have the time to get them completely uncovered. We need to form Voltron.”

Pidge and Hunk nodded from their places on his screens, Keith and Lance giving verbal assent. His team knew what to do.

They’d been forming Voltron for nearly two years now.

Breathing deeply, Shiro let the familiarity take over, the Black Lion leading the others as they flew in formation skyward, the previously unsettling shifting in machinery now largely ignored. One by one, the minds of the other Paladins joined with his, their group consciousness a comfort even when every odd seemed stacked against them.

There was solace in the bonds of Voltron. There was peace.

It was the peace of knowing there were others at your back, steadfast allies in your corner that you could trust with anything, least of all your life.

A brief touch of euphoria always ran through Shiro’s veins when they formed Voltron and it was comforting to feel his family around him.

He frowned deeply as that familiarity seemed to turn strange, a new connection between his Right limbs that made his other side feel slightly unbalanced in comparison.

The Right Arm and Leg of Voltron were bonded in a way beyond that of Voltron and it was strange.

But not bad.

Not in any sense of the word.

They felt stronger, more cohesive. They felt like one entity.

Just what had they undergone on Libanis to feel so differently?

Forcing his thoughts away, Shiro opened his eyes and Voltron dove back towards the base that served as the catalyst of all their current worries.

He pulled up short, enormous form putting holes in the rooftop with just his sheer weight. A brief thought from Shiro had Pidge surging forward, Voltron’s left arm closing tightly around the ice covered shell of the first containment unit.

Planting his feet in the wreckage of his landing, Voltron heaved, the encapsulated unit tearing from the base with an almighty cacophony of alarms and shearing metal. The ice crackled dangerously in his grasp but otherwise held, the precaution doing more than Shiro had anticipated to hold the shields in place.

“Your ice is making the difference.” Shiro said wryly, “It’s holding the whole thing together.”

“We gotta hurry, Shiro.” Pidge reminded, the urgent tone of her voice transmitting her anxiety over the bond.

Shiro got flashes of a previous explosion, the images of metal dripping like melted ice cream inserting themselves into his brain.

Nodding, Voltron took off into the stratosphere, winding up before throwing the unit as far as he could manage into the merciless void of space.

“Will that be far enough away?” Lance asked, his voice sounding even more strained than it had before.

“We’ll see.”

“We’ll hope, more like.” Keith said darkly, a brief touch of his tumultuous emotions making Shiro wince.

Rather than respond, Shiro directed Voltron back toward the planet, no longer taking care with his weight as the clock ticked against them.

Only a couple minutes left.

Left and Right crashed through what was left of the rooftop, clasping tightly onto the metal shields that contained the explosions that could so easily tear a planet to pieces.

There was no telling what it would do to Voltron.

Again, Voltron planted his feet, giant mechanical body heaving and groaning with the strain as he pulled the other containment unit from the base.

The Right Leg faltered for only a moment, a brief twinge of pain leaking across the bond, the intensity enough to steal the breath from Shiro’s lungs.

He opened his mouth to ask, to _demand_ when Lance cut in abruptly, the tremble to his voice even more evident, “We don’t have time, Shiro. Ask me how I’m doing when we’re not about to see this thing explode in our faces.”

Shiro clenched his teeth tightly, the leader in him understanding Lance’s stance but the friend in him railed at letting Lance suffer more. Voltron heaved once more and a brief flash of light pulled the thoughts from his mind.

“Keith….Keith, stop!”

The area right next to the Red Lion’s head was damaged, the shields barely holding together. Each successive concussive burst pried the shields a little further apart, the whole structure scarcely holding on.

“You heard Lance, Shiro! We don’t have time!”

The Red Lion clamped down once more, a bright explosion shrieking from the gap and searing the side of her face.

All of Voltron felt the heat that screamed through Keith’s Lion and Voltron faltered, the five of them reeling briefly.

“What are you guys doing!?” Matt yelled, “There’s less than a minute before the shields give!”

The Right Leg pushed them from the roof, their movement slowed as Hunk fought to recover. The Left Leg soon joined and Voltron rocketed from the surface of the planet, a crumbling containment unit clasped between his hands.

Just as they broke through the stratosphere, another explosion rocked them all, the intensity of the force enough to dislodge the Green Lion’s jaws, the Red Lion nowhere near enough to hold it on her own.

The containment unit dropped from the hands of Voltron, panic surging through all of them as they fought to regain their bearings.

It was the one downside to the joined consciousness of Voltron. If something happened to one limb, they all felt it and it could be enough to incapacitate them for a moment if the damage was severe enough.

Shiro directed Pidge and Keith, both of the Arms of Voltron just missing the containment unit. If the situation had been any less dire, he could have laughed at the spectacle they made. A giant robot basically playing hot potato with a giant metal box of explosives.

It was almost morbidly humorous.

Before another thought could transmit to his other limbs, he felt a surge of determination through the bonds he shared with the others, the Left Leg instinctively planting as the Blue Lion sailed through the air, the Right Leg of Voltron colliding solidly with the unit.

The kick set off another explosion against the Blue Lion and they all reeled in the aftermath but the force sent it back up into the sky, the combination of its own explosion and the collision with the Blue Lion more than enough to rocket it through the last bit of the stratosphere and into orbit.

It hung there for a moment before the seams of the containment unit began to glow a brilliant crimson, the whole thing shaking violently, the other unit just on the edge of his vision doing the same.

“Pidge, shield up!” He ordered, “And all of you make sure you’re strapped in, this is gonna get bad!”

He heard Pidge’s tinny war cry as the Shield pulled up, Keith coming up to brace it just as the unit in front of them exploded in a conflagration bright enough to momentarily blind Shiro. He ducked his head to the side, helmet automatically tinting to try and protect him.

Fire and debris consumed the sky above them for several long minutes, the light and color more than he was anticipating from the explosive force.

It was a symphony of destruction, somewhat tragic in its thwarted purpose. It sang through the darkness of the cosmos, akin to a supernova in its sheer size.

Lance had been right to worry about throwing it far enough away.

The fire licked closer, the percussive force finally hitting them with enough intensity that both Keith and Pidge cried out, the Arms of Voltron shaking with mechanical strain.

The force came in waves, each one sending them rocketing further and further into the stratosphere. It followed them down and Shiro despaired.

What if it wasn’t enough?

What if they’d doomed the planet anyway? The explosion may not have taken place on the planet’s surface but it was enormous.

Maybe even enough to hurt the planet from space.

The force kept pushing them and pushing them, faster and faster, the air around them heating as they approached Libanis’ surface like a meteor, the base rushing up to meet them.

“Brace yourselves!”

A faint trickle of fear danced through their bond and he wrestled it down, projecting assurance and his own determination.

They would not end here. He wouldn’t allow it.

He gripped the controls before him tightly just one more time before letting his body relax just slightly, old lessons still engrained in his bones. If you’re about to crash and you have a safety harness, it was always best to relax your muscles to keep from dislocating your elbows or fracturing your arms.

Even with his relaxation, nothing could ever really prepare you for what it felt like to crash, especially when you were at the head of an enormous robot and had the explosive power of enough bombs to blow through a planet’s core at your back.

They peeled right through the roof of the Galra base like it was paper, Voltron creaking dangerously as they smashed right through the enormous building, the force driving them deep into the ground underneath the base itself.

Debris followed them down and Shiro curled his fingers around his safety harness, metal tearing all around him and Voltron groaning under the weight that landed atop them. The force was enough to rattle his brains and he held on for dear life, the minds of the others pressed tightly alongside his own.

They were all scared. Beyond terrified.

They thought this was the end.

_They were all so young._

They couldn't go down like this. There was so much more they had to accomplish!

So much life they still had to live.

The bonds of Voltron pressed them closer, minds bracing for the worst even as they hoped desperately.

_Don't let us die here._

After what seemed like an eternity, they came to a slow stop, a dim heat burning brightly at their back, a comparatively thin layer of rock separating them from it.

“Is…is it over?” Hunk coughed, a pang of pain transmitting itself over the bond, “Are we done falling? Did we save the planet?”

“I think so.” Shiro breathed, the hesitance in his own words surprising him.

“That was so close.” Pidge laughed hysterically, “That was way too close! Do you have any idea how close we are to the mantle of this planet? We are less than 100 feet, Shiro! That explosion almost threw us into the planet’s core!”

“Almost only counts in horse shoes and hand grenades.” Keith added tightly, his dry words pulling a bright spark of laughter for Lance.

“Your weird sayings have honestly made my day, babe.” He chuckled, voice trailing off worryingly as the Right Leg of Voltron abruptly went dim.

“Lance?” Shiro panicked, sitting upright in his chair, muscles protesting loudly at the movement, “Lance! Answer me!”

“No use, Shiro.” Keith slurred, his voice also worryingly quiet, “He’s out. God, he’s hurting so bad. I’m hurting so bad? I have no idea where it’s coming from now….”

Red quickly followed after Blue and Voltron abruptly disbanded, two of its five parts offline as their Paladins lost consciousness.

“Oh, no, this is bad. This is super bad! They both passed out! What if they’re dying? What if they’re horribly injured from the fall?” Hunk began to ramble, his panicked face popping up on Shiro’s dash now that they weren’t linked in Voltron.

“Hunk, calm down. They’re both hurt but I think that’s more from what happened before the fall.” Shiro consoled, trying to fight down his own worry to comfort Hunk, “Let’s just get them out of here.”

“Yeah, about that.” Pidge sighed, some of her hysteria ebbing the longer they went without incident, “The Lions aren’t really responding right now, especially Green. I think we took a lot more damage from the fall than we thought. Voltron might be out of commission for a while.”

“So how are we supposed to get out?” Hunk mumbled, a far more serious expression gracing his face.

The damaged screen of Black’s console flickered dangerously for a moment before a communication opened, the scene within making him slump against his chair, relief turning his limbs boneless and wobbly.

Although, part of that was definitely because of the crash.

“Hello, Shiro.” Allura laughed, her voice hoarse and slightly unsteady as she gazed at him intently, “I believe congratulations are in order.”

“It worked?”

“It worked.” She nodded, “Libanis is safe, comparatively. There are still some Galra forces within the Palace but they are being routed relatively quickly. The Terrians seem to have finally made good on their promises of alliance.”

“I’m afraid we aren’t going to be much help with that.” Shiro sighed, “We’re kind of stuck in a hole.”

“Given your state, I’m not surprised.” Allura said wryly, her hands waving as she quietly dismissed the hovering woman in cream colored robes to her right, “Be patient for a moment. Coran is on his way to the base with the Castle. We should be able to get you out of their soon.”

“Haggar?”

Just saying her name made his arm seize with remembered pain and he pushed it down viciously, trying valiantly to stay in the here and now.

“Fled.” She snapped, Allura’s temper flaring briefly, “Wounded, certainly. But she fled. We believe she went to Warslek’s ship. I imagine they tried to fix Pidge’s virus, given the speed of their escape from the system. We won’t be seeing her for quite a while, I’m sure.”

A small snort of laughter left him at the thought, the memory of Pidge’s virus lightening the load on his psyche.

Gremlin protocol indeed.

“How are Lance and Keith?” She asked at last, her hands twisting anxiously, “Mira tells me that Lance had just begun to heal when they were taken.”

“They’re both pretty messed up.” Shiro admitted, eyes flicking to where Red and Blue laid in a pile, their enormous eyes dark, “They passed out after we crashed. I haven’t had the chance to check up on them yet.”

Allura’s expression darkened at that, her lips thinning as she frowned. “Their helpers here in the Palace have not fared much better in that respect. The rebel agent, Taellia, nearly died. The two Terrians nearly met their end at Haggar’s hands. This victory cost a lot of blood, Shiro.”

Those two toned eyed narrowed dangerously and Shiro felt a shiver run down his spine at the sheer level of Allura’s fury.

“The Coalition pushed too far this time.”

Shiro certainly agreed with her. An answering anger rose up in him but he let it fizzle out, his mind and body too tired to sustain that kind of emotion.

“You’re right.” He breathed, weariness pulling at his limbs, “But we can focus on that when everyone is back up and walking. We have bigger problems right now.”

“As always, you have a point.” Allura conceded, her own anger fading from the tense lines of her face, “Coran is touching down now. I’ll see you soon.”

The screen clicked as it disconnected, the sudden silence jarring.

“So it’s over then?” Hunk asked quietly, “We did it?”

“Yeah, Hunk. We did it.” Shiro hummed, a hint of a smile pulling at his lips.

Just another day of being Team Voltron.

~~~~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Though the battle is finished, the War is far from over!  
> Our boys still have a conversation to have and honest to God, I am so ready to finally write this damn confrontation.  
> I had a plan for this little beautiful story and it has taken me over 300 pages to get to it.  
> That being said, starting with the next chapter the rating will be going up on this story. Because it has taken me Three. Hundred. Pages. to get these fucking fools to boink.  
> I've earned this.  
> Until next time, guys!
> 
>  
> 
> Also, quick aside: This chapter is heinously long. In the future, would you prefer I keep chapters to a smaller scale or are you good with the monstrosities?

**Author's Note:**

> And the plot hecking thickens, bro.  
> I don't really know how to write anythign other than angst guys, so forewarning, its gonna get pretty deep from here on out. But I always write happy endings, so there is a light at the end of the tunnel!  
> Remember, caps lock is the way to my heart and a very happy flipping birthday to me!
> 
> Come scream with me on Tumblr! [ Here! ](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/faequeen40)


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